


Naegiri Week 2019

by makot0naegi



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Animal Death, Awkward Conversations, Awkward Sexual Situations, Awkwardness, Babies, Blood and Gore, Body Image, Children of Characters, Chocolate, Christmas Eve, Confused Naegi Makoto, Crying, Death, F/M, Falling In Love, First Dates, Fluff and Angst, Future Foundation (Dangan Ronpa), Gift Giving, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Graphic Description of Corpses, Hope's Peak Academy, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, Kimi the Noble Cat, Married Couple, Naegiri2019, Nervousness, No Smut, Oranges, Past Character Death, Post-Apocalypse, Pregnancy, Self-Esteem Issues, Sex Talk, Stars, The Tragedy of Hope's Peak Academy, Tokyo (City), Tree Climbing, fidget - Freeform, flutter - Freeform, ill, investigate, plant - Freeform, puzzle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:26:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21828169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makot0naegi/pseuds/makot0naegi
Summary: Ill: The world outside proves to be more unkind than the survivors of the School Life of Mutual Killing anticipated. In a world that threatens to crush them at every turn, the worst has come for Makoto... and Kyoko's the only person to save him.Puzzle: There are good and bad parts about having a partner with similar traumas to you. When she can't sleep, Kyoko thinks she found one of the good parts.Stars: Kyoko knows she should never listen to what tabloids say. But should she listen to them when they match the insecurities in her own head?Plant: Makoto and Kyoko's new beginning didn't start with a baby. Not at all. It started with a cat, and a birch tree.Fidget: Makoto's finally popped the big question, and he assumes that at this point, he and Kyoko have to put everything in place. Including discussions of intimacy.Flutter: Makoto's brushes with death have come a little too close for comfort. He has words he needs to say to Kyoko, and he needs to say them now. No butterflies will be getting the best of him.Investigate: Kyoko's always had such a hard time with Christmas Eve, and Makoto just wants to make it nice. Somehow, he's misplaced what's supposed to cheer her up.
Relationships: Kirigiri Kyoko/Naegi Makoto
Comments: 23
Kudos: 125





	1. Ill

**Author's Note:**

> Bet you'd thought you'd seen the last of me!  
> Nope! I'm still here, and I'm bringing you another edition of my Naegiri Week prompts. Now, I know I failed to finish last year's set, but please know that I still intend to post what I would have written if I actually got it done on time. School was unkind to me in 2018. At least now, I have a little more time, and am hoping to complete all of 2019's prompts. 
> 
> If you like the idea of Naegiri Week and want to participate, check out https://naegiriweek.tumblr.com/ ! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy the pieces I wrote based on the prompts, and as always I hope you have a wonderful day!! Thank you for your attention and time!

Four days ago, Makoto collapsed. 

Kyoko hadn’t seen it happen at first. Her lavender eyes were far too focused on the path that lay ahead of them. She hadn’t even thought to look back when she heard his body hitting the pavement. Every moment she knew she had to be alert for danger; she had no time to waste on listening for tiny sounds like that. She’d expected it to be nothing. She had to focus on leading the charge. Though throes of illness and hunger threatened to overtake her, she knew she had to press on. She encouraged the same in the others, too, but completely fell apart when Makoto’s quiet gasps brought her attention to him.

Hearing Byakuya shout, she spun around without thinking. Her eyes fell immediately upon the pitiful boy. He was the strongest boy she’d ever known, yet when she laid eyes on him, he was sobbing on the road like a pathetic child. His teeth grinding together in pain. His eyes squeezed shut. Desperately trying to keep himself together.

“What happened?!” Byakuya stepped closer to Makoto, eyes narrowed. He crouched down to his level. “Get up off the ground. Now’s not the time to get all weepy-eyed!” 

Makoto didn’t answer. He didn’t dare lift his face from the asphalt; his brows furrowed in emotion. Sadness, Kyoko wondered? Or maybe he was in pain. Some invisible pain, that the rest of them couldn’t see. She supposed he’d been complaining of sore legs as of late, but that was normal. Everyone had sore legs. Running and hiding during the apocalypse did that to you. They’d been walking in search of help for days; of course their legs felt like they were going to fall off. Even Aoi, who’s leg wound had adopted an infection, refused to complain. For the most part, Makoto had kept quiet, too. 

Yet there he lay, his face so close to the dirty street, crying like a little boy. Something more had to be wrong. He never was much of a crier; she doubted the soreness of his own legs would be enough to send him crashing to the ground.

“We don’t have time for this!” Byakuya huffed, prying at the smaller boy’s body. He grabbed hold of his arm and tugged. Within an instant Makoto screeched out pain, desperately trying to yank his arm out of Byakuya’s grasp.

He continued to sob. “Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me!”

Byakuya failed to respond to his pleas. He kept tugging like a toddler; one who didn’t know that it hurt the puppy when he pulled its tail. Makoto continued to howl and sob. “Would you be quiet?! You’ll attract cannibals or something! Now isn’t the time for this!”

Kyoko barked out an order without thinking. “Togami, leave him alone.” She walked towards the two of them, each step careful until she crouched down next to Byakuya. “Something is clearly wrong beyond whatever you think it is.”

“He’s fine,” Byakuya protested, “He’s not in any sort of real pain.”

Wrong, Kyoko thought. One look into Makoto’s watery green eyes, and one could see that it wasn’t anything normal. Sure, he’d had the same complaints as the others — fatigue, nausea, diarrhea, and loss of appetite… but no one else had been experiencing pain quite like this. If something had become enough to make him cry, she knew they should take it seriously.

“Naegi-kun, what’s the matter?”

His face had painted itself with shame, likely at his tears. He spoke with shaky breaths, almost daring to avoid meeting her eyes. “Everything… my shoulders, and my forearms… my knees… god, everything hurts so bad… It’s like all my joints are killing me.”

She placed a gentle hand on his head, hoping to be supportive. She had never been all that good at the whole comforting thing, but she still intended to try. 

“I tried to hold up, for awhile, I really did…” He sniffled, wiping his nose on the back of his hand. “But I… I’m sorry, I… I tried so hard to… to… hold up, but I just… This really… really… fucking hurts...” 

The curse caught them by surprise. If Byakuya had needed any more proof that he was in legitimate pain, that word was it. His scowl, however still strong, seemed to soften a bit after he heard the word. His grip on Makoto’s arm lost its firmness as well.

“Shhhhhh…” She patted his head softly, “You’re okay. I know it hurts.” 

He sniffled again, seeming grateful for her comfort. In a way, it brought her solace, knowing that she gave him some peace of mind. Her presence seemed to stabilize his breaths a little. “I’ll… I’ll get up in a few minutes, I s-swear I’ll keep going I just… this really hurts…”  
Wrong again, she thought. Everyone seemed to have a knack for being wrong here. There was no way in hell Makoto would be walking on his own again. He collapsed; it was a telltale sign that his joints had all given up for the day. He should have known that.

“Nonsense, Naegi-kun.” She shook her head, “Hagakure-kun will carry you.”

His brow creased in worry, and he shot a nervous glance towards Yasuhiro. Ah, she thought, he’s worried about what will be done with Aoi.

“B-But what about Asahina-san? Her leg’s so much worse than mine. She needs someone to lean on.” He stuck his arms out to try and push himself to his feet, only to go tumbling back down against the road. Kyoko prayed he hadn’t scraped his chin. “I-I can get up, if you’ll just give me a…” 

He once again went crashing to the ground, letting out a rather pathetic sob. 

“I c-c-can do it, I-I swear…”

Kyoko shook her head. “Asahina-san can lean on me instead. I just want you to get of here in one piece.”

____________

Patient Name: Naegi Makoto, Ex-member of Class 78-A of Hope’s Peak Academy  
Reported Symptoms: Fatigue, nausea, diarrhea, loss of appetite, fever, and painful joints and muscles.  
Diagnosis: Early stage scurvy. Keep an eye out for pinpoint bleeding around hair follicles and skin as time goes on. Immediate consumption of fruit and vegetables will be necessary. 

Kyoko could do little more than sigh as she slammed her notebook shut, her pen unceremoniously tossed to the side. Thinking about all of this stressed her out too much, yet there was little else that dwelled in her mind. Most days she would be thinking about the next opportunity to move, to get food or water, but now… now all of her thoughts were of Makoto, and what she could do to ease his pain. 

If she chose to be honest with herself, there wasn’t much she could do to soothe him. She wasn’t a nurse, nor a nurturing person. She knew little of caring for people with bubbling stomachs and crushing fevers, and she certainly did not know a thing about helping someone with aching joints. Her care methods were standard: feed them, wash them, give them something to drink, make sure they were comfortable. That was all she could do to make his suffering easier. Nothing short of searching for an antidote could ease his sorrows, and she knew there was almost no way she would be able to get by doing that. Not with the others around, at least. They’d throw a fit once they discovered her absence. Not to mention that they might try to track her down; an act that could only further the sense of disaster. If she wanted to do this, she’d have to do it on her own. She’d just… have to find some way to slip out during the night. Maybe leave a note warning them not to come after her, or they will face her wrath when she returns. Yeah, that was a good statement… she knew at least Aoi and Yasuhiro would buy into that one. 

Setting her notebook aside, she sighed. Inky blackness would soon consume the ruby red sky, and she’d get a chance to relax. Well, as much as one could amongst a pile of ailing teenagers. Nights were revered among their group for their solace from pain, but getting to sleep was always the real struggle. Between Yasuhiro’s pneumonia-induced hacking, Toko’s hourly bathroom trips, Aoi’s whimpering, Makoto’s sweat-soaked fever dreams, and the whale calls made by Byakuya’s empty stomach… Sleeping was a challenge. Even if she could manage to block out the sounds of her sick and hungry friends, their environment was hardly comfortable enough to sleep in anyways. Most nights they bounced from place to place, and most of those places were not built for comfort. Some nights they were lucky and got to share a motel room or two; most of the time though, they found themselves curled up on the floors of former retail stores and restaurants. This time around, they found themselves in an abandoned library… another place that, surprisingly, had few places to sleep. 

Of course, that didn’t stop some of her friends. When she looked up from her notebook, almost all of her friends had drifted off already. Toko had nuzzled her face into Byakuya’s shoulder and fallen asleep there, and he’d let her. She assumed he must have been too exhausted himself to push her off. Aoi curled herself up in a corner, trying desperately to maintain warmth against the cold breeze. As for Yasuhiro, well, he’d been dead asleep for hours. Once he could stop coughing, his favourite hobby became sleeping. He was always the most well-rested of the group, unlike Kyoko. And much unlike Makoto lately. 

No surprise there that Makoto was still wide awake.

“How are you feeling?” The words were reflex. She’d asked him the very same question so many times; really any time she’d realized that he was staring off into space again. 

He gave the same answer each and every time, wincing as he shifted. “I’m fine.”

She never believed it. Habitually, he held his tongue for the sake of the others. That was why he’d gone on for so long before collapsing. He sucked it up until he couldn’t anymore. 

“I know that’s not true.”

He let out a small grunt, pulling one of his legs closer to his chest. He exhaled sharply through his nose, slowly turning to look at her. “Of course it’s not true.”

She tried to look sympathetic, but she didn’t know what that looked like facially. Lowered brows in concern, maybe? Jeez, she would have to reprimand her grandfather for making her struggle to express herself. That is, assuming she might ever see him again. “What’s bothering you today?”

His eyes squeezed shut tightly. There was a jarring lack of hesitation in his words, as he turned to her and said, “Kirigiri-san. I’m going to die, aren’t I?”

The question struck fear into her heart like lightning. His words vibrated through her eardrums for only a few seconds, but already she felt ready to shout at him. He was supposed to be the optimist, damn it! How could he scare her with this talk of dying? No way. No, no, no. No way.

“No, you are not.” 

Her voice came out firmer than she intended, like a parent telling their child that their word was final. She imagined her face must have followed suit, an uncontrollable scowl carving its way into her lips. If her predictions were correct, this was also probably one of those times that her eyes had become scarily intense. 

“Really? You think there’s something we can do?”

The lack of hope in his tone almost made Kyoko want to slap some sense into him. But hitting your friends is a mean thing to do, and hitting the boy you kind of sort of think you might have a crush on is… well, it’s a lot worse. 

Nodding was a better choice in this scenario. “Yes, I do.”

To her surprise, Makoto let out a soft chuckle. As his eyes fluttered open, she could start to see the inklings of sadness that hid behind them. Like he had already begun to accept that he faced the beginning of the end. 

“It’s okay,” He said softly, “You don’t have to lie to me to make me feel better.”

“I’m not lying.” Her hands curled into fists. Where had all of his positivity gone? Had this condition replaced it with nothing more than swallowing melancholy? Once upon a time it would have been unthinkable for Makoto to even speak like this, but suddenly now she was taunted by the idea that it could become the norm. “I fully intend to make sure you do not die.”

“Kirigiri-” He started, but she didn’t let him finish. She cut him off not even a word’s worth in to the sentence; furious at the way he spoke. 

“It’s not up for discussion, Makoto! Whether you think you will or not, I intend to make it so that you survive.”

She gulped. Neither of them had expected her to snap like that. Usually she could be calm and reserved, even in the face of adversity. But something about the suggestion of Makoto’s death hit her differently. Like a knife being jabbed into a wound she didn’t know she had. Without her consent, her eyes had become glassy, and she realized that she felt the push of tears in her throat. Stupid, she thought. It had been so long since she’d last felt the need to cry. It was so easy to choke it down. 

The words hung a long pause in the air between the two of them; both of them afraid to break it for what felt like hours. Kyoko could do nothing but swallow repeatedly and blink rapidly, hoping desperately that he didn’t notice that she wanted to cry. Thankfully, he didn’t, opting instead to pick at the dirt under his fingernails. He lacked the proper works to say… just as she did. 

The act that ended up the vow of silence between them was a soft sigh from Makoto’s end of things. He bit into his lip, shutting his eyes tightly. The face he made when he was reluctantly about to go along with one of her wild schemes to save the day. 

“What do you propose we do?”

_______________________

If a spring breeze even existed anymore, it carried only a bizarre chill and the stench of death.

In the air it carried came the taste of distant smoke; the charred bodies of the dead and the burning brought through the air to these wandering children. Amongst the smell of death and the taste of airy smoke, lived nothing more than darkness and dim patches of light. The only sound being the distant screams of the tortured as they begged for mercy, and the gentle footsteps of the allied moving in synch. Pray for them, these wandering children. They are lost in a world determined to eliminate them. 

A horror novel could not have painted a superior picture to the one that unfolded before Kyoko. All around her threatened destruction and desolation, should she take one wrong step. Just as if she were a character in a book, Kyoko would have to think through every detail of her present situation carefully. There could be no room for error, especially not when she had brought along such fragile cargo.

The decision to bring Makoto with her was a bad one. Sure, she knew there was little she could have done to stop him from joining her, but that didn’t keep her from regretting it. The poor thing stumbled about with all of the grace of a baby deer still learning how to use its legs, and had the endurance of one, too. He could only move in quick spurts, only fast enough to make a little bit of headway before needing to rest. They were nowhere near being close enough to their destination as they should have been thanks to that. 

She didn’t have it in her heart to blame the poor boy, though. He did his best to not be a liability. He was skilled at ignoring his upset stomach and its repeated false alarms for vomiting, and was sweating out his fever like a pro. There were few people she had ever seen manage illness this well, and it impressed her, knowing that he could. She might have even felt proud of him, if she didn’t feel so overwhelmingly awful about having to drag him out into the dirty, disgusting world. 

“H-How much longer until… until we’re… t-there…?” He panted so quietly that it might as well have been a whisper. She could see beads of sweat dripping down his forehead, desperately trying to cool him off. They weren’t managing so well, she noted, for his face flushed rouge. Maybe he would be due for another break soon, she decided. He didn’t look so good. 

She tried not to look too pitying as she glanced back at him. She’d quickly learned that pity only made him feel worse. “Just a little while longer,” She purred in the sweetest voice she could muster, hoping to sound comforting, “We can take a break soon, if you like.”

He shook his head vigorously until pain overtook it. Another product of his fever. “I think I can manage for a little longer.” He promised; she knew it had to be empty. Too much sweat had stained the collar of his t-shirt for him to be okay to keep moving. He would need a break. And water. 

“I disagree.” She took his hand in her own. “Here, let’s duck behind this building. We can stop here for a bit.”

The boy opened his mouth to protest, but Kyoko’s movements were enough to shut him up. At that point, his focus drew towards his aching joints, and how to keep himself from crying out at the movement. Luckily, resting at the library for a few days had given them a new lease on life, and he could move just a tad easier than he could have before. He wasn’t collapsing, nor wailing from indescribable pain. At the very least, that made both of them feel a little bit better about the whole thing. 

Still, even his increased comfort didn’t mean that he didn’t have to focus on keeping his complaints at bay. Every bend of his knee or curve of his forearm warranted a low grunt of pain; one that he silenced in order to keep himself and Kyoko safe. Night was the most dangerous time for them to be travelling, and they both knew how every little sound drew the attention of the nightcrawlers. 

So he kept himself silenced, right up until they reached the building Kyoko proposed they hide behind. Then, with all of the grace of someone who had been nearly drowned, he let his desperate gasps spill out of him. Kyoko stood guard next to him; she seemed adamant that she be able to monitor his breathing. There hadn’t been a break that had gone by that she hadn’t listened to his shallow breaths, waiting for them to progressively become deeper. 

“Do you want some water?” 

Her voice came as a gentle coo, like the way a mother would speak to her ailing child. She didn’t bother to listen to his response; she reached into her bag to grab hold of the bottle anyway. They both knew he’d be taking a drink no matter what he said. 

She handed the bottle to him carefully, taking note of the water level. Enough for him to have a mouthful, but not for her. That was fine. If where they were going was as perfect as it was rumoured to be, she would have no problem getting more. Perhaps she could even snag some bottles to take back with her, to hydrate the others. God knows how long it had been since they had some real, fresh water. 

Makoto accepted the bottle gratefully. His hands shook as he unscrewed the lid, but Kyoko tried not to notice. It was probably just hunger tremors, she thought to herself. She knew she had them too. She couldn’t help but fantasize about putting an end to those soon, too, just as she did with the water. All she could think about, apart from getting there alive, was providing what she knew everyone needed. 

What Makoto needed most of all. Of course she thought of the others, but Makoto’s need was potentially the most pressing. Realistically, Toko would survive as long as she stayed hydrated, and the same went for Aoi so long as she washed the wound. Given that he was neither a small child or elderly, she fully expected Yasuhiro to make a full recovery. And once again, assuming that Byakuya would eat and drink, he’d be fine too. Makoto was really the only one of her friends who could die on the spot from something dramatic like a heart attack. So getting the right kind of food into him sat at the top of her priority list. 

“Do you want some, Kirigiri-san?”

Leave it to Makoto to snap her back into her thoughts by offering her water. There had barely been enough in there for him to have a mouthful, yet he’d still halved it to make sure she could drink. Stupidly selfless Makoto; she wanted to scold him for that. She knew that he knew that he needed the water more, and the idiot had still halved it. She shook her head frustratedly. 

“Are you sure?” He prodded, raising an eyebrow at her. He waved the water bottle at her temptingly, but she raised a hand in refusal. He knew better than to keep bothering after that, so he let it go and took one last swig for himself.

“Just drink it,” She sighed, “If I’m to believe the rumours about where we’re going, then I should be able to get more.”

The luckster blinked it surprise, and pulled the water bottle back close to his body. The expression of excitement on his face over having more water was cute enough to make her laugh, albeit rather lightly. The fact that he now seemed almost territorial over his water only made it harder to avoid giggling more loudly. 

“You think this place will have water and fresh produce?” His eyes were wide, glimmering with the hope she worried he had lost to his illness. She could have cried at the sight of faith finally returning to his gaze. It had only been four days since he fell apart, but already she was grateful to have it back. It had been too long. Just seeing that brought a smile to her face.

“It’s supposed to. Apparently, there is an anti-apocalypse group spreading resources to survivors. I believe they call themselves Future Foundation, or something cheesy like that.”

It became his turn to smile. “It’s nice to know that there’s still some people out there trying to do good.” 

She nodded in agreement, unable to fight herself on looking pleased. Really, she was with him on that. Knowing that someone else was out there, fighting for the future… it brought her great happiness. She could only hope that she would live long enough to put it to good use. 

Makoto screwed the lid back onto the water bottle and handed it back to her. She took it gratefully, proceeding to offer him her hand. He became a little more stable when he had the help. A sigh of relief expelled itself from her mouth when he accepted her hand, and pulled him up from the spot where he sunk originally. Now that he was so close to her face again, the drops of sweat and the flushing of his face became even more apparent. She chose not to weigh her options about what to do; she simply pried her glove off her hand and placed it on his forehead to feel his temperature. Warmer, she noted, but not as bad as it could get. If guessing was involved, he probably hadn’t hit one-hundred degrees yet. In the seventies or eighties, should she be tasked with giving an exact number. 

Still, this wasn’t something Makoto could possibly know. Concern for his own well-being gleamed in his tired eyes, and only showed further in the way his brows lowered over them. Perhaps it was over what she could report, or maybe the fact that she stood so close, but his lip took some abuse as well. It had become like the victims of the Tragedy: cannibalized. He was biting the skin off it again and again in agonizing anticipation. Like he thought Kyoko could just decree that he had two minutes left to live. 

She sighed. “Well, you certainly have not got any better,” She withdrew her hand from his forehead and slipped it back into its glove, “But you also haven’t gotten any worse. Which, I would say, is a rather good thing.”

Like a wave crashing to the shore, all of the concern in Makoto’s expression washed away. As a small smile snuck across his face, she heard him laugh. “Yeah,” He paused, turning his head to look at the path that lay ahead, “Should we be going again, then?”

“If you’re ready.”

From that point forward, they would take a few more breaks. Understandable, considering that Makoto hadn’t done such a good job holding out for long periods of time. So far they had managed to narrowly dodge the nightcrawlers, ducking through alleyways and silencing themselves every time they heard the familiar footsteps of the hungry. When they came near, neither of them dared to make a sound. They only waited; they barely found the strength to breathe. Only once the loud, stomping feet trailed off, did the two teenagers continue on, feeling a little more like they were going to throw up the dinner that wasn’t in their stomachs. But it was fine, for they were almost there. 

That’s what Kyoko told herself, anyway. It distracted her from the fact that they seemed to be stopping more and more often because of them. It seemed as if her finger would fly to her lips every two minutes. She’d be desperately silencing the whispers, footsteps, and breaths she dared to take — otherwise, she couldn’t guarantee their survival. Then, once the shouting of the cannibals had passed, they’d keep stumbling along. In the back of her mind, though, the thoughts of them would linger. How hungry did they have to be to eat other human beings? And how certain could she be of this Future Foundation safe haven if the nightcrawlers still rallied for flesh? 

She gulped at the thought. For a second, she considered asking Makoto, but dismissed the idea just as fast. The poor thing already fought off nausea as he walked; striking up a conversation about some good ol’ cannibalism wouldn’t help that case. She had a memory of him vomiting the first time he’d seen one of the bodies they’d eaten. How could human beings ever stoop so low? Could they really stoop so low?

Kyoko shuddered at the life she’d lead if she were more desperate. Though hunger ached in her belly and sent dizziness spiraling through her head, she couldn’t fathom killing and eating another person. And she knew Makoto and the others couldn’t either. And while this did put them on the moral high ground, it also put them into the position of victim. If they weren’t careful, they could be next. 

It was better not to think about it. The consumption of others, the chance that the promise of food and water was empty, and her stomach’s endless growling. It was better to focus on her partner. What he felt, what he thought, what he needed in the moment. It was strange; in spite of not being a nurturing person, she sort of took to caring for him. It took her mind off of the other things she decided to avoid thinking about. Interesting. She couldn’t keep herself from wondering if maybe, just maybe, he worried about her in the same way. 

“How much further now?” He whispered over her shoulder; his voice wrought with exhaustion. Though she told him to stop many times, he had taken to refusing the closer they got. She could hear his breathlessness as they stumbled through the night, but it was never enough to slow him. 

Their eyes didn’t meet as she guided him forward; she simply mumbled her response to him. “Soon,” She told him, “We’ll be there.” 

He let out a low hum, pulling himself back from her side ever so slightly. There was weight on his feet when he walked; she could hear it, but he said nothing. He simply kept pushing along, one foot in front of the other, beads of sweat still dripping down his forehead mercilessly. 

At least with them having not heard the footsteps of the nightcrawlers recently, Kyoko could take the opportunity to chat. “How’s your stomach?”

As if to answer her, a loud grumble sounded from presumably, within his stomach. She hid her smile behind her hand, and he blushed.

“A little rumbly, but… okay, I guess.” 

She nodded thoughtfully. “I am sorry to hear that… but we will fix it soon. I promise you that.”

He laughed softly. “I’m not worried,” He placed a hand on her shoulder, “I know I’ll be fine, so long as you’re with me.” 

One might have thought Kyoko would answer, but the words caught in her throat. Her mind raced so quickly that she could barely think of a thing to say. Stupid Makoto, she thought to herself, stupid Makoto and his cute face and his sweet sentences. This boy will make a joke out of me one day, I swear. Only the flustering of her face could show how that made her feel, her gaze darting away from him. He probably wouldn’t look at her deeply, yet she didn’t want him to see how much those words meant. It would only make the blow worse if the rumours turned out to be wrong. 

Her lips sealed themselves after that. The two of them still kept a close eye on each other, but there was almost nothing else that needed to be said. The closest they got was Makoto slipping his hand into hers; it felt as if it was his way of begging to be close. Taking one look at the war-torn, exhausted boy who trudged beside her, she couldn’t help but accept it. An old friend’s words echoed in her mind.

Have you ever held hands with a boy? 

It was hard to know whether she wanted to scowl or laugh. She had held his hands before; it wasn’t the first time. But at the very least, this time felt a little different. Perhaps it was because as they took each careful step towards the unknown, it felt like it was the two of them against the world. 

They made good progress after their last conversation, for there were no more interruptions. Creepy, Kyoko thought, that enemies could just seem to disappear as they drew closer. A little too suspicious, if you asked her. Not that she should really be asked; she was a detective after all. As far as she was concerned, anything could be suspicious. Still, she attempted to shrug it off… for Makoto’s sake. The last thing he needed while in his condition was the paranoid ramblings of a girl without evidence.

Besides, his presence became a good distraction from her paranoia. All she had to worry about was pushing him forward, towards the proclaimed Future Foundation safe haven building. The structure had finally spread itself out in front of them; the whole thing appearing suspiciously normal amongst the chaos. If the expectation for Kyoko was honesty, she would have confessed that she presumed that everything would look… rougher. Maybe some scorch marks along the bricks from fires long since put out, or perhaps some blood stains turned brown from age. Certainly, if these Future Foundation people were bright at all, they should consider that their weirdly clean-looking building stood out like a sore thumb. Just an old warehouse building, complete with dusted red brick and white moldings around the doors and windows. Not even the window glass shattered or shared any cracks with the outside world. The window was simply tinted with natural colour, and dust that had been kicked up from storms. In the old world, this could have been any old abandoned warehouse. Only now, it was the hiding spot of secret resources.

The appearance of it was so obvious that Makoto’s face lit up upon sight. Just seeing his expression was like watching a human Christmas tree. His exhausted eyes lit up with glee, and he clung tightly to her arm. Delight dripped through his voice as he spoke to her, and he gestured towards the building with a bouncy, shaking hand. “Is that it, Kyoko?” He asked, “Is that the building?”

She nodded, fighting off the grin that threatened to make its appearance. “Yes,” Closing one of her eyes, she pointed forward, “That’s the one.”

Those olive green eyes of his sparkled back at her, and he pressed his face into her arm. A sigh sounded as he nuzzled her, and for a minute, she might’ve imagined them some place else. But the old warehouse was no sunset-lit beach, nor star-clad night. It was just an old warehouse, full of little more than promise. Promise was promise, though. If it meant his survival, Kyoko might consider it the most beautiful thing of all. 

With that idea resting in her mind, she pressed him to move forward. One step after the other, the same rhythm as always. Every once in awhile she stopped to flick her head around corners; a necessary evil to ensure that no nightcrawlers could spring a trap on them. Makoto followed along behind her carefully; a willful puppy trailing after his caretaker. As they drew closer and closer to the clearing that housed the warehouse, Kyoko knew making a break for it was necessary. When she glanced at her walking partner, it took her all of three seconds to know he saw it too. 

She took a deep breath, and squeezed his hand tightly. Counting back from ten in her head, she braced herself. One, two, three. Even with her gloves on, she could feel the sweat on Makoto’s pams. Four, five, six. The warehouse beckoned them in an inaudible voice. Seven, eight, nine. Stacks of fresh produce and water. They had to be in there. 

Ten. 

Kyoko stole a breath and ran. 

The world went by her in a rush; the sounds of their thundering footsteps as they ran consuming everything else around her. Amongst the chaos of their feet, the only other thing she could hear was the shallow panting of Makoto, who was clearly overexerting himself to arrive safely. She’d be sure to praise him for his perseverance later; most likely after she rewarded him with some well-deserved water and food. For now, though, she zeroed in on the front door. It stood there waiting; a wooden beacon in the distance. It drew closer and closer as their feet hit the pavement, the smell of death and the taste of the smoky air drowned out by what lay behind it.

Almost there. The thought echoed in her mind as she grabbed hold of the door’s handle. Behind her, Makoto attempted to skid to a stop, clearly just as lost as she was in the motions of the run. In the distance she heard the voices of the hungry, and she prayed that the famine of her and her friends hadn’t put them in the nightcrawlers’ sights. She yanked the door back with fervour, shoving Makoto inside before promptly slamming the door behind her. 

She slumped against the door the moment she arrived, and her lungs screamed for air. The world seemed to sway under her feet as she stared down at them, trying desperately to steady herself. She had exerted the energy she lacked when she ran, and she knew her partner must have too. The mere idea of moving only made her head spiral further, but she knew she had to check on him. She ignored her brain’s desperation for the world to slow. Instead, she turned her head towards Makoto.

Just one look at him, and her heart dropped into her stomach. 

He was… horrified. His hands had flown to his mouth to cover it, for otherwise it’d be hanging agape. His sleepy eyes were now wide with shock, and his brows so harshly furrowed together that she’d have thought he witnessed the product of a nightmare come to life. She could even see tremors start to consume his body once again.

“Naegi-kun?” She squeaked, her voice small and insignificant against the echoing terror of the warehouse. “What’s wrong?”

The boy refused her gaze. He only extended a hand, and trembling, he pointed forward. 

His horror struck her just the same when her eyes fell upon it. 

Bodies littered the building. Bodies of Future Foundation members, bodies of the despairs, the nightcrawlers, and the desperate. Everywhere was the sight of bodies, bloody and beaten beyond recognition. Shelves knocked over; the contents spilling over into pools of blood, excrement, and urine. Those that didn’t fall from the shelves onto the fluid-soaked floor had been otherwise tampered with. Some had been ripped open and left to spoil, so that no one might have what lay inside them. Others were completely destroyed, or used for horrible things Kyoko couldn’t bring herself to process. Her head spun even faster, and she was half-sure she’d have toppled over, if it weren’t for Makoto who grabbed her arm. 

Thank god for his willingness to support her weight.

“I…” She sputtered, shutting her eyes. A harsh, sudden headache pounded at her temples, and when she tried to breathe, the air scorched her throat. “I don’t understand.” 

Her feet swayed beneath her even further, threatening to bring her down. It was only Makoto who kept her steady; his voice hushed as he whispered in her ear. 

“Stay with me, Kirigiri-san.” He begged. Through the booming of her heart in her ears, the shaking of his voice made itself audible. “Everything is fine.”

She tried to swallow, but it felt like a rock lodged itself in her throat. Her senses threatened her with tears, but she willed herself not to cry. Crying doesn’t solve anything. Her grandfather’s words. Words she wished to resist. “No,” She murmured, “Everything is not fine.” 

“I know,” he whispered back, “It’s horrible, I know.”

She nodded. “This place was supposed to… help people. I… I cannot understand why anyone would… would…” 

The detective’s voice trailed off. Her whimpers were the only thing ringing through the silence of the old warehouse. This only seemed to torture her further; Makoto couldn’t help but remark on how she trembled in his arms. The act was so uncharacteristic of her. It sent a jolt of worry to his core. 

“Naegi-kun, what are we going to do?” She turned her head to look at him; the first time Makoto had actually seen the fear in her violet eyes. “The water… Aoi, and Byakuya, and the others… and you! You needed this place! You needed it so badly, and I was certain… I was certain that I…”

He pulled her face towards his chest, shushing as gently as he could. He found himself stroking her hair without thinking to do so; he supposed he thought the action would be soothing. Fortunately for him, she failed to oppose it. Rather, she actually buried her face deeper into his chest to hide. 

“It’s okay, Kirigiri-san.” 

“B-But, I…” 

The girl’s hands curled into fists, and he could feel the clench of her jaw. Was she about to cry, or was she about to punch him? The lack of answer made him uneasy. Kyoko looked like the kind of girl who could punch hard, should she want to punch you.

“... I was supposed to help you. We were supposed to get out of this together. I… I don’t understand why I cannot help you. I don’t understand what I’ve done poorly.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. There’s nothing you could have done, and no way you could have known. We just… need to go somewhere else now.” 

She pressed her face further into his chest, and suddenly, he could feel it. The tiny, wet spots of her tears on his shirt. She wouldn’t show it, but he could feel it. For her sake, he decided not to mention it. Chances are she was already embarrassed enough to be crying, given her stoicism. He decided perhaps it was best if he just let the waterworks slide this time around. 

“No.” She answered with a shaking breath. Though he could hear her sniffling, she dismissed any semblance of a sob. “No, I’m not leaving here until we find something to help you.” 

“Kirigiri-san-”

“No!” She growled with all of the stubbornness of a toddler. It might have even been punctuated with a stomp of her foot. “No, I am not leaving her until we fix things!” 

“Kyoko, we can’t…”

Suddenly, she shoved him away, staring at him with a frown. The tears were still glistening on her face, yet she scorned them. It dawned on him now that he probably led her to want to punch him, shortly after she started to cry. Two for two, he supposed. 

“It’s final, Makoto.” A firm, resolute voice took place of the shaky girl’s. She swiped at her eyes, and strengthened the painted-on scowl she wore. “I intend to help you. Whether you try to help yourself or not.” 

The words struck him dumb. He tried to reach his hand out to her, to say something that would be of value, but the detective was having none of it. Within seconds, she had whipped away from him, strutting down the rows of shelves like it was nothing. A chill shot down his spine at the sight of it. How could she be so firm in her resolve, he wondered. Even he, who had been widely praised by others for being so hopeful, was breaking down at each and every site where things fell apart. He had long since given up on himself, yet Kyoko dismissed all ideas of ever letting go. Somewhere within himself, Makoto knew he had to find that same resolve to keep going. To search for anything with her, so that they may both survive. 

Because she said she wanted them to leave this situation together.

“Kyoko, wait.” He called out to her, stumbling forward as she walked. “I’ll help you.”

Within an instant, the discontentment melted off the girl’s face, and she turned to glance back at him. She sniffled once more, folding her arms across his chest. There were no words shared between them, but Kyoko flicked her head forward. With her, that was as good a signal as any to follow. So he did, stepping over any ominous looking puddles he found along the way. If there was any hope to be found for him, it would be with her. 

“I’m thinking we should head towards the back of the building,” He suggested, taking hold of her hand again, “Some of the stuff back there might be spared. They could even have a produce fridge. You know, like where they mist the vegetables at the grocery store.”

Kyoko did little more than nod, walking towards the back of the store like she didn’t have a care in the world. With the way her chest was so proudly puffed up, you wouldn’t have expected her to have been crying a minute before. He figured it was safe to assume that was why she was doing it — she always held distaste for crying in front of others. It was sort of understandable, he reasoned. But he didn’t mind comforting her, if she needed to cry. Heaven knew that by then, she’d comforted him enough times. 

The two made their way to the back of the building in relative silence, save for the sound of their footsteps on the tiled floor of the warehouse. As they walked, both of them thought it best to avoid making contact with the corpses as they walked. Seeing the beaten faces, some of them frozen in screams of agony or despair, it made the hairs on the backs of their necks stand on end. Could they meet the same fate, if they weren’t careful? Could it just as easily have been them? Would whoever did this come back? 

They both shook those nightmarish fantasies from their heads; both too afraid to know the answers to those questions. Instead, they put their focus onto the produce shelf, and what they might find on it. 

“For you, there are a few things that we could use.” Kyoko told him, her voice hushed. Whether she spoke so quietly because she feared the return of the killers or showing how emotional she’d been, he didn’t know. “Acerola cherries, for example, make an excellent source. Kiwis, bell peppers, strawberries, broccoli, kale, and oranges are also acceptable sources.”

Makoto tried to keep those in mind as they travelled through the warehouse. The further back they went, the more he scanned for them. On occasion they would think they’d hit the jackpot, finding a lone strawberry or rogue kiwi on the floor. However, once they picked it up, they would discover the flaws. The most common was mold, but other regrettable occurrences did include a kiwi that had several bites taken out of it already; and a bell pepper coated in blood on one side. At that point, there was no other choice but to toss it aside and keep looking. Thinking optimistically, at least that provided them with just a smidge of hope. It did help significantly, seeing how the ideal fruits and vegetables did manage to trail to the back. Kyoko took that as a good sign. 

Well, as good as a sign it could be, in an abandoned warehouse full of death. Sure, the stench of it all failed to recede as they ventured further, and the air still burned her throat, and Makoto was still sweating like a pig because of his fever… But in some weird way, she still held out hope that everything would be okay. Some way, somehow, it would be okay. It had to be. 

And it seemed like it might, as they came up on the end of the island they had been walking through. 

“Oh my god,” Makoto exclaimed, pointing forward. “Kirigiri-san, look!”

Her focus darted around, trying to figure out what he was referring to. Had a nightcrawler made its way in? Was there a resource they could benefit from? She scoured the shelves and the floors, taking in as much information as she could, until finally… she saw it. A round ball of fiery orange, sitting plainly on the ground. Away from any corpses, with skin untorn and full of natural colour. 

A healthy, safe orange. 

She’s certain that the two of them must have lunged for it; they attacked the fruit like children eager to open a Christmas present. Within mere seconds, Kyoko had ripped the glove off her hand and created an incision in the skin with her nails, tearing it off the fruit with a strange sort of glee. 

Makoto sat across from her on his knees; eyeing the fruit like it were a piece of gold. She supposed she couldn’t blame him, for she basically held the remedy to all of his struggle. If she were in his shoes, she felt certain she would have acted the same way too. In her hands, she held the key to fixing everything — no more fever, no more upset stomach, no more fatigue, no more aching joints. She wouldn’t have to hear him cry so horribly ever again, ever see him such deep pain. She supposed she yearned just as hard for the relief of it as he. So when she finally managed to tear the skin off, she shoved the fruit into his hands. 

“Go on, Naegi-kun.” She urged, “Eat it.”

For a second, he did nothing but stare at it. Surely he wasn’t having second thoughts about wanting to live or something, was he? Kyoko might have smacked him right then and there if he was, no matter how mean she knew it was to do… but, fortunately, that didn’t appear to be the case. Instead, when he came to his senses a little more, he tore the fruit in half and placed the other piece in Kyoko’s hands. 

Her stomach growled in delight at the sight. “What are you doing?”  
No, no, no, no. This was not her fruit. She couldn’t eat this. Not when he needed the nutrients more. Nearly as soon as it was in her hands, she rushed to return it to him — but Makoto dismissed it. Before she could even get within a few inches of him, he pushed her hand back to her. 

“Please.” A slight smile crossed his face as he pushed her hand back. “I know you’re hungry, too.”

She bore down on her lip absent-mindedly. How did he expect her to accept this? “Naegi-kun, I can’t…”

“Yes, you can.” His grin brightened, and his hand secured itself around her own. “You’ve tried so hard to keep up my hope. Let’s try to keep up yours, too.”

Don’t accept it, she shouted at herself. He needs this more than you do. You know that. 

She did know that. She did know that, yet when she looked at him, there was little she could do to resist his begging. That soft smile, those affectionate green eyes, damn you, Makoto Naegi. She fixed her eyes on him carefully, and raised the orange to her mouth.

“That’s it,” He said, raising his piece to his own, “On the count of three, alright?”

She nodded, eyeing the fruit in front of her. God, she hadn’t realized how much she missed oranges until this very moment. The scent of the citrusy fruit almost made her feel like she might start to drool.

“One… two… three.”

Bite.

A rush of flavour flooded her mouth, staining her tongue with its sweetness. She groaned in delight, having long since forgotten how wonderful oranges were. Across from her, she could gather Makoto was having the same experience… although the juices from the fruit were dripping down his lips and chin. She chuckled slightly, liking the mildly embarrassed expression on his face.

“This is… really good.” He remarked, wiping his chin with the back of his wrist. 

She giggled at the act. “It truly is…”

“Mmm… Kirigiri-san?”

Taking another quick bite of her orange, she glanced back over at him expectantly.

“Yes?”

He licked his orange-juice coated lips, and flashed her another smile. A real one, with teeth and that signature cheerfulness she had grown to miss amongst his illness. Her chest warmed at the sight, and increased its warmth when he finally spoke. 

“Thank you.”


	2. Day 2: Puzzle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are good and bad parts about having a partner with similar trauma troubles to you. When she can't sleep, Kyoko thinks she might have found one of the good parts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, welcome to day two's prompt: Puzzle! I have absolutely no warnings to note for this one, so it's totally safe, fluffy fun! Just some good dating Naegiri. Potentially the only downside to this one is that it's shorter than what I usually tend to write; I apologize if you wanted more! Today's just been awfully busy, but hey... in the absence of a longer prompt, know that the loved ones in my life are going to get some really cool gifts for Christmas this year. 
> 
> That being said, I hope you enjoy Puzzle, and I wish you a happy day going forward!

Left side. Right side. On her stomach. On her back. Back to the left side, then to the right once again. Roll over onto her stomach one last time, and when that doesn’t work, she knows she better roll onto her back once more. 

This was Kyoko’s near routine procedure for falling asleep. Once upon a time she’d been the kind of person who could fall asleep in two seconds flat, but age and trauma had since played a nasty trick on her. Arguably among one of the most frustrating aspects of her post-traumatic stress disorder was her undesired transformation into an insomniac. It sent her longing for the nights when she was a teenager, and could fall asleep with a snap of her fingers. Sure, it was true to say that she had often been more exhausted from her work back then, but at least it put her to sleep. These days, she would be lucky if she could amass a good seven hours. 

On to her left again. She exhaled irritatedly, pulling the covers closer to her face. What was she doing wrong? It wasn’t like her mind raced, and the room had darkened. That should have been enough, or at least a little, to help her to sleep. Even the silence; it should have helped. The silence, it should have been enough as well. Enough to lull her into a peaceful sleep; where she considered nothing else but the sweet dreams that danced within her mind’s eye. 

Yet it didn’t. In fact, perhaps it kept her more awake. Makoto could take the blame for at least some of that. Most of the time, the night filled with his light snoring. Given that she was already such a light sleeper, it had been something that absolutely tortured her when they first moved in together. Every night she found herself listening to his obnoxious snoring, and for a short while, it bothered her. How was she expected to sleep when his sinuses were making so much noise? Some nights it would get so bad that she’d shake him awake, begging him to switch sleeping positions to one that wouldn’t be so loud. He’d typically oblige; although she noted his displeasure at being awoken. It made night time so much more difficult for the two of them.

But somewhere down the line, the couple had been able to get past it. It took a few months, perhaps a year, but… she’d found comfort in his night-time snuffling. Eventually she found herself tuning into the peaceful rhythm of the sound, and using it as an indicator that she was safe — and so was he. 

So now, that the room was deadly silent, now that she didn’t hear it, falling asleep became so much less simple. Especially because it meant that he must have been lying wide awake as well.

She rolled over to face him; only to find his back turned to her. It appeared he hadn’t wanted her to know that he was as alert as he was. “Makoto.” She whispered, “Judging by the absence of your log-sawing, I take it you are awake?” 

Within seconds he rolled to meet her, and when she saw his face, she couldn’t help but notice the darkness under his eyes. Yikes. It looked like there had been a few sleepless nights for him. Certainly more than there had been for her. When he blinked, he did so sleepily. She could even see jaw move to suppress a yawn. 

“Yeah,” He sighed, progressively giving into the yawn, “Unfortunately.”

She shrugged slightly; unsure of what should be said. Whether that was a product of her exhausted brain, or just general confusion, she didn’t know. All she knew revolved around the observation that she felt really, really tired. And that she really, really wanted to go to sleep.

“Should we get up?” She reached over to brush some of his fluffy hair away from his face. She smiled slightly as she did it, liking the feeling of his soft hair again her fingers. “Take a sleeping pill, perhaps?”

Makoto’s face twisted like he’d just eaten a sour candy. Though she tried not to, Kyoko found herself snickering. She rushed to cover it with her hand, hoping to hide her insensitivity.

“I always feel gross when I wake up after taking one.” He paused; his lemon-expression slightly fading. “B-But you can take one, if you want to.” 

She chuckled softly once again. Even when he expressed an opinion, he still desperately wanted to be considerate of her own. It was little things like that that made her feel that she was dating the world’s most adorable man.

“I am fine, thank you. I do not care for them much, either.” 

A grin tugged at the corners of Makoto’s lips, but he didn’t seem willing to let it fully show. Or perhaps, his sleepiness prevented it from blooming.

“Okay…” 

The words struck silence between the two of them for a couple of seconds; the pair of lovers doing little else other than staring into each other’s eyes. Then, rolling over onto his back, Makoto groaned suddenly.

“When did sleeping become such a puzzle?” He complained, throwing his arms into the air dramatically. They came crashing down just as quickly as they went up, and for a moment she worried she might get hit with them.

To this, Kyoko could only shrug. “I don’t think I could tell you. I used to be good at it.”

The luckster pouted, dissatisfied with his girlfriend’s answer. He couldn’t help but push a hand through his hair. He tended to do it when he felt stressed, but Kyoko couldn’t deny that she found it sort of attractive. Jeez, even when he was sleep-deprived, she found him to be undeniably arresting. Once upon a time, she might’ve been ashamed of that, but now she could embrace it. She didn’t hesitate to grin slightly at him when the act caught her eye.

“Is it almost like… there’s a piece of a puzzle missing?” 

The words sent his eyes darting over to her, almost as if she said something profound. She could see the crease in his brow, and assumed that he wanted to signal her to go on. Clearly, the words had struck some kind of chord with him.

“Falling asleep these days, does it not feel as if we have almost every proper element but… something?” She supplied, arching her eyebrow. Somehow, she struggled to convey her own thoughts, though she knew them to be sensical. Another issue with the sleep-deprived mind, she thought. “If you think about it, theoretically, we have every piece of our sleeping puzzle. The room is dark, and quiet, and we know we’re safe. The locks have been checked three times, and we’ve read our books, and climbed into bed together. We even had some tea before bed. There is virtually no reason for us to be awake right now, yet here we are.”

“Like something’s wrong, but nothing’s here. Nothing’s wrong.” 

“Precisely.” 

Sighing, she reached up to rub at her eyes. The lids on them were heavy, and for a moment she prayed for them to close. But that moment just as soon passed, for she realized that she didn’t want to leave Makoto awake alone. If they had to be awake, she supposed she could appreciate that they were awake together. Being oh so alert while her partner was dead asleep was always more of a challenge.

“Maybe we need to go see that psychologist again…” 

Ugh, no. Hard pass on Kyoko’s behalf. A couple weeks prior, the couple had had a psychologist recommended to them by Kanon Nakajima. A doctor Ogura Osamu. According to Kanon, he was supposed to be a highly revered psychologist for those struggling with a variety of conditions. Some patients swore he even had a magic touch when it came to dealing with PTSD. However, when Kyoko stepped into his office, she found him to be nothing like what she expected. As far as she was concerned, this Doctor Ogura was nothing more than a kook with clipboard. The whole process of him trying to initiate the treatments she “needed” for her mind felt uncomfortable and invasive. Even after giving it a couple of appointments to settle, Kyoko reached the conclusion that he wasn’t for her. The thought of having him try to solve her insomnia problem would be like handing the “sleep puzzle” to a circus monkey. No thank you. Makoto could go on his own if he wanted to.

“I don’t think we have to.” Kyoko pressured gently, wriggling her way closer to her boyfriend. Though she knew it probably wouldn’t help, she craved the feeling of his body close to hers. Snuggling up to her lover certainly couldn’t hurt, could it? She wriggled across the bed for a moment, until she decided she was finally close enough. Then, giggling to herself, she nuzzled her face against his neck. He didn’t even have to meet her eyes to let her know that heat rushed to his cheeks. “We can look for some online remedies… or ask our friends what they do.” 

He shook his head slightly, wrapping his arm around her to pull her close. She accepted without hesitation, wondering if maybe this really was what she needed to calm down. Safety, darkness, silence, and comfort. It seemed simple enough.

“I still think we should seek professional help.”

Her eyes rolled. “Oh, probably…” She hummed, “But for now, maybe let’s just try to finish the puzzle in some other way.” 

His eyes took their turn to roll around, but amusement and satisfaction dripped through his voice when he spoke. “Let me guess, you want to sort this out with a good old fashioned cuddle?”

A short, suppressed chuckle escaped from Kyoko’s throat, and she snuggled in closer. Hearing the cheerfulness in his voice, she pressed a gentle kiss on his neck. 

“How did you know?” 

His shoulders shrugged softly, and he pressed his own kiss to the top of her head. “Just a lucky guess.”


	3. Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyoko knows she should never listen to what tabloids say. But should she listen to them when they match the insecurities in her own head?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good evening everyone! Here I am back with Day Three, bringing you: Stars! I don't have much to say with the beginning of this one, just that it contains body image issues -- so if you think that might be upsetting for you, I would recommend skipping this prompt. I want you to be able to enjoy the prompt, and feel as beautiful as you are! 
> 
> That being said, I hope you enjoy Day Three: Stars.

“Kyoko Kirigiri was more attractive before she had kids.”

A stupid statement. A rude, stupid statement. Some tabloid writer said it, or rather, wrote it. She knew it was a hook to get readers. Almost everyone said she shouldn’t take it personally. In the grand scheme of things, the words of one tabloid writer meant nothing, they claimed. He was just some idiot who measured her worth as a person by the way she looked; his words were no proof of how everyone else felt about her. No matter what awful things he said about her and her body; the comments he made about her having “too much fat on her stomach” and “hips that only accentuate her obvious weight gain” were that of a loser. Everyone told her that he was an idiot, and that she should just ignore him. He wasn’t worth it.

And rightfully, maybe he wasn’t. Maybe she should have ignored it.

But it was hard to feel like that asshole didn’t have a point when she met herself in the mirror.

Truth be told, she’d been having problems with body image long before the article had been published in that magazine. It wasn’t exactly like it was unusual for people to comment on her body. Prior to this writer, there had been hundreds of others who made comments. At first, most people made generic comments. Simple stuff about her being hot, having a nice rear, and her husband being the one lucky guy who got to have sex with her. Seeing celebrities on television over the years, she grew to expect that. No matter how strong and intelligent she was, people would focus most on her beauty. She knew she couldn’t defeat the culture that valued beauty over brains, or perpetuated the idea that women couldn’t be both brainy and beautiful. So she just ignored it. It never meant anything to her. However, as time went on, and Kyoko’s little family grew, the dynamic of these writers changed. More and more of them started to turn for the worse, mocking her postpartum state after her first two kids.

Still, she’d tried not to care. She adored her kids. She’d been more than confident enough in that to tell multiple magazines that she valued her son and her daughter more than being conventionally attractive. And to some degree, it was true. She really did love her kids, and the pair of them made her so much happier than the idealized body ever could. 

Deep down though, somewhere within her heart, a seed of fear planted itself. A fear that maybe, just maybe, these tabloid people had some kind of point. That she really wasn’t as pretty as she used to be. That maybe the people most dear to her would start seeing it, and want to leave. Kyoko didn’t think she could take it if someone tried to leave. At the time, she’d been lucky enough to find that not a soul budged, even in spite of the comments, but… after the third baby, and the comments of that stupid tabloid writer… the worries had come bubbling back up again. 

Saying hello to those worries again, at age thirty-four, is how she found herself standing in front of her bedroom mirror. Every detail under her own critical scrutiny.

Staring at herself in the mirror like this, she wondered how she should think of her body now. Her hair was shorter and thinner, to stay out of the reach of tugging baby hands. Some chub clung to her belly, still hanging about after six months of vigorous workout sessions. Her hips wider than they used to be, even when Hiroko had insisted that they probably wouldn’t change drastically. And the stretch marks… she couldn’t forget the stretch marks, and the way they spanned across her belly. Each child insisted upon bringing multitudes of new stripes with them, as if they liked creating more work for her. She spent years using creams and formulas to fade the marks, and now that she’d had a third, she knew she’d have to start trying again. Just looking at all of the progress, in constant reverse due to her pregnancies, it made her sigh. Kyoko couldn’t help but doubt that Makoto found her as sexy as he did when she was twenty-two.

If she was being honest, that was really the only thing she cared about. The only thing she was really fearful of. Whether others found her to be beautiful or liked the way her body looked was something she’d deemed irrelevant. All that mattered to her was that Makoto still found her appealing. 

She felt sorry for herself, given that the sight of herself in the mirror caused her to sigh. Her charred fingers pinched her stomach sadly, wondering how she was ever going to reverse all of this baby weight.

“I can’t believe I actually used to wear this outfit,” She groaned, twisting to examine her figure further. She noticed new stretch marks start to reveal themselves on her belly, and she groaned. It made her never want to wear a sports bra or crop top again. “It’s amazing to think I ever looked good in this.”

She could remember those days. She’d been in her early twenties then; the perfect age to wear something so flashy. Back then, she could pull off this little workout outfit. A hot pink sports-bra and short shorts combination, built for sweat resistance and husband-catching. She recalled wearing it for every one of her home workouts, for the sake of granting herself Makoto’s attention. She could still draw up his expression in her mind; the face that told her that he was trying not to stare but couldn’t help himself. The memory of it made her giggle. How she longed for the days where he could barely keep his eyes off her.

Looking at herself in the present, wearing that outfit, she desired only to avert her gaze. Gone was the tiny waist, the strong hair, the flat tummy, the perky breasts. Replaced now with a shadow of those things; an ideal that seemed to elude the detective’s grasp. She’d been left with little more than a body that she struggled to feel comfortable in.

“So much for the days of looking sexy, I guess.” She muttered to herself, stealing one last glance in the mirror. She wasn’t sure what she hated more, when she saw herself — the state of her body, or the sadness etched into her expression. There was a haunting quality to the arms that were wrapped around her tummy, trying to shield her body from herself. Bowing her head, she drew herself away from the mirror, trying not to think about it. She would rather just rip the clothes off her body and move on with her day. At least she could do that comfortably. It wasn’t like she had any big plans to be intimate with Makoto that night; they were still parents to three kids after all. So long as she changed and tossed the outfit in the family’s outgoing donation box, no one would have to know. Her insecurity could be her little secret.

At least, that had been her plan, but a familiar voice from behind her was a little too determined to contradict it.

“Whoa!” 

Makoto. She cursed mentally. How could she have forgotten that it would soon be time for the baby’s mid-afternoon snack? He must’ve come upstairs to give her her bottle. Leave it to him to be irritatingly on top of things. She could have kicked herself for having forgotten. Heat began to prick at her face, coating her nose and chin with shame and humiliation. How could she have been so naive? This was the last thing she wanted to see. Her shame felt so great that she couldn’t even bring herself to look at him.

“Hello, Makoto…” 

Her voice came out weakly, contaminated by the slight tremors of total embarrassment. If he noticed the difference, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he just kept chatting away merrily, like he didn’t just walk in on his wife in something she didn’t look good in.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He answered, slight amusement in his voice. This only spurred her embarrassment on further. Was he laughing at her? The thought made her want to melt into the floor. God, he wasn’t so cruel as to laugh at her, was he? “Found some old clothes you wanted to try on again?”

She tried to play along. Surely he was going to joke, wasn’t he? Just like everyone else did. Pushing out the fakest laugh she could muster, she turned towards him. Maybe she could play it off as a joke, too, and spare herself the humiliation. “Yes, I wanted to make sure these didn’t look good anymore, so I could get rid of them.” She placed a hand on her hip, trying desperately to look nonchalant. “I look quite atrocious, don’t I? The years haven’t exactly been kind to me.”

“What?” Makoto exclaimed, shaking his head in disagreement. “Come on, don’t even joke about that.” 

Beads of sweat slipped down her forehead. Had she misinterpreted what he wanted to convey?

“Joke about what?”

“Your body! I mean, come on, Kyoko, look at you! You’re beautiful!”

Beautiful? If she couldn’t see the thick rims of them on his face, she would ask if he was wearing his glasses. Partial blindness was the only way he could have found her beautiful, or at least, that’s what the voice in her head said.

“Makoto…” She answered breathlessly, unsure of how to tell him the truth. She had hoped that the whole thing was just a joke to him, but he was making it increasingly clear that his intentions were serious. So serious that Kyoko found herself fidgeting uncomfortably; what could she possibly say? 

Her silence made his concern pounce onto her anyway. His face fell; his cute smile flipped into a frown. Before she knew it, he slipped into the room. Oh god, she thought, now he really means business.

“Kyoko?” His gaze was pitying when he stared at her. She loathed it. He knew how much she hated being pitied, but at the same time… she knew sometimes she had to let that go. Of course it was unappealing, yet sometimes she knew it to be necessary. Sometimes it was just what needed to happen. In cases that involved Makoto, this was often how he would help her work towards a solution.

Brushing a strand of purple hair away from her face, she swallowed. The words seemed to catch in her throat, and she wondered if she might even be able to say them. In front of his worried eyes, she felt so small and fragile. Like one of the ceramic ballerinas her grandfather kept in their old mansion. Saying the words made her feel like she was going to fall and smash. “I… Do you honestly still think I’m beautiful?”

Her husband’s eyes went wide with shock. Evidently that was a ridiculous question to him. So ridiculous that he went flying to her side; eager to provide affection for his downtrodden spouse. “Of course I do!”

His hand found its way to her cheek, and he began stroking it softly with his thumb. It was a technique he used frequently, should she become overwhelmed. In a way, she supposed it sort of helped her to push the words out. “Do you promise your words aren’t empty?”

He nodded frantically. “Of course. What made you think otherwise?” His eyes searched her face for a moment. She could see that he hoped for an answer. Unfortunately, she didn’t have the opportunity to give one. Anger flickered across his face suddenly, like the lighting of a flame, catching her before she could tell her truth. “Was it that tabloid writer?”

She shook her head sadly; her shoulders slumping. “It’s not just him,” She confessed, “I’ve sort of felt this way for awhile. Like I might not be as attractive to you as I used to be.” 

“What gave you that idea?”

“I don’t know… I guess I just… got insecure. My body is so different than it used to be. When you married me, I could have been a model, but now… I guess I kind of have a mom body.” 

“And what’s wrong with having a mom body?” 

Kyoko rolled her eyes. “This coming from the guy who failed to gain ten pounds when the doctor said it would be good for his health.” 

“There is nothing wrong with having a mom body.” Makoto stated firmly, determination in his voice. “Do you have extra weight on you? Sure. Are your hips wider? Yes. Are you covered in stretch marks? Of course. But you know what? You’re still drop dead gorgeous. There’s nothing prettier than a mom body. It makes you look like the night sky.”

She blinked at him, not quite understanding what that analogy was supposed to mean. “The night sky?” She raised an eyebrow at him. Whatever he meant by that, she wasn’t sure anyone would have known. But in Makoto speak, it probably meant something sugary sweet.

“Don’t you think your stretch marks are like little constellations?” 

No, she thought, I don’t. I’ve never looked at them that way… Was that really how he looked at them?

“I… suppose? I fail to see how this proves the idea of a mother’s body being alike the night sky.”

He reached over to tuck some of her hair behind her ear, laughing gently. “Alright, think of it this way: your body's like the night. It’s full and beautiful, for it’s held so much. You’ve given birth to three beautiful beings; tiny planets that grew within you.”

“... and my stretch marks are constellations.” 

He nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Exactly. Having a mom body makes you just like the night sky, and you’re just as beautiful. You’re just as beautiful as a sky full of stars.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but all that came out was a gush of air. Such an analogy being used to describe her, it made her speechless. After years of inappropriate comments from others, and these deeply-rooted worries that he might not love her if she wasn’t so pretty anymore… a little idea he had lifted all the weight from her shoulders. There was nothing she could say that would thank him well enough for that; the only thing that came close enough was his name as she flung herself into his arms. 

She made him stumble; her body crashing into his. She lucked out in him being able to retain his balance, nearly grabbing onto the edge of their bed with his free arm to ensure that would happen. His other arm wrapped tightly around her waist, and she couldn’t help but smile at the feeling of it. She hadn’t realized just how long it had been since she’d really allowed him to touch her torso. 

“Kyoko…” He murmured, his lips to close to her ear that she felt as if she might shiver. “I want you to know that no matter what happens, or how you change… You’re always going to be beautiful to me.”

She laughed softly, pulling him in even tighter. “I’ll always be your night sky full of stars.”


	4. Plant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, and welcome back to Koto publishes at ungodly hours of the night. Starring: me. This one I guess I can take a little more leniency with, though, as I did more research. Turns out you need to know a bit about cats and babies if you're going to write about them, and have neither. Who knew? 
> 
> I'll also admit that this prompt gave me a particular bit of trouble. I can only hope that I wrote it nicely enough, and that you all will enjoy it anyway!
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: it's the one that includes the tagged animal death. I know. I'm sorry. I hate myself for it too.

Makoto and Kyoko had had another child, before the others. 

Before Seiko, before Koichi, before even Hope. Once upon a time, there was a fourth child, with dusty silver hair and piercing amber eyes. A girl that they’d found on the streets; one that they adopted into their home. 

Before they had their own kids, Makoto and Kyoko had Kimi.

Now, strictly speaking, Kimi wasn’t a legitimate child. In fact, she was quite old. She must have been about thirteen when they found her, crouching under an overhang in the rain. The poor thing was freezing cold, water dripping from her shivering body. They could see the tremors that overtook her, yet when Kyoko reached her hand out, she pulled away in fear. The apocalypse clearly had not been kind to the poor girl, for she shied away so quickly from their attempts at friendship. Even as the years went by, and Kyoko’s belly swelled with the presence of her first child, she recalled the way she and Makoto looked at each other that night. How that wordless questioning led to a very happy life for her.

Truth be told, having Kimi wasn’t the same as having a little girl of her own. Sure, her presence became good practice in some ways, but it wasn’t really the same thing. For starters, where children brought the little patter of feet, Kimi brought the pattering of paws. Cat paws, to be specific.

A thirteen year old gray nebelung was Makoto and Kyoko’s first baby. Well… maybe more of Kyoko’s first baby, by just a hair. Much as Makoto loved Kimi, the two of them spent plenty of time quarreling. She could still remember the way they’d argue; always about something different. Sometimes about where it was appropriate for Kimi to pee, or what objects she should knock off the countertops… but nothing beat where Kimi should sleep.

There was nothing quite like hearing her husband whisper-yelling in the middle of the night. There were quite a few nights where her eyes would flutter open to reveal a new quarrel between man and cat, and she’d simply have to put up with it. If she closed her eyes, her brain could still paint the picture. The fat grey cat in her husband’s hands, mewling in frustration at him. She wriggled like a worm to escape his grasp, but he always refused it. Makoto was always holding her, and always panting slightly.

“For the last time, Kimi,” It was his scolding voice he used, the same one his misbehaving students got, “That is my face. I know you want to sleep on it, but if you do that, I can’t breathe.”

Kimi hissed in response, and Makoto jerked his head back in surprise. In the most accusatory tone he muster, he retorted to her: “Hey! Don’t you take that tone with me!” 

She chuckled at the memory. Kimi was always funny like that. Always getting into trouble, and sleeping in the weirdest places. There was even one time, shortly after she found out about her pregnancy, that they’d thought she slipped out in the middle of the night. The couple searched the house in a tizzy; both of them near tears at the thought of losing their beloved pet. They searched for about half an hour until Kyoko, wrought with anxiety, found Kimi napping in one of the laundry baskets. Oh, how they’d snuggled and patted the little kitty when they’d found her. And the treats? She swore the already plump cat gained five pounds that day. 

Thinking about their first baby now; she couldn’t deny how hard it was. Though they were only a month away with the actual byproduct of their love, Kyoko still longed for Kimi. To feel her soft fur beneath her fingers, and the purrs that rolled out from her throat effortlessly. The way Kimi would brush up against her when she was sad had been so soothing during so many trying times. Whether it was the series of arguments she and Makoto got into at the beginning of their engagement, or the woes of carrying a child she couldn’t comprehend… Kimi cuddled and supported Kyoko through all of it. She was always around with a helpful head bonk and a nuzzling of her cheek. There could be no tears when noble little Kimi was around. 

What Kyoko remembered most about her, though, was the way she kept the baby warm. Yes, for whatever reason, the pregnancy awoke almost a caring instinct within the cat. The moment she caught wind of her owner’s expanding belly, she took to curling up on it and later around it. At first, they thought maybe it was just a matter of where was most comfortable to sleep — like the way she always tried to drift off on Makoto’s face. However, as time went on and her stomach grew, they noticed it was a routine thing. Whenever Kyoko grew stressed or upset, Kimi would come plodding over and hop up for a belly snuggle. 

“She must just know,” Makoto had said, reaching down to stroke her as she slept, “She’s got a sibling to protect.”

A sibling to protect.  
Makoto was awfully attached to that idea. It seemed at every turn he brought it up; chatting eagerly to her about the way the two might get along. Somehow, apart from the baby names and the personalities it could have, this was a thought that Makoto’s mind favoured. The relationship their kid would have to their cat. There had had many a conversation about it; one in particular she liked to reminisce about. 

It was when she was about five months; she remembered it from the way the weight showed on her stomach. They were curled up in front of their TV, watching some comedy film she didn’t really find funny. His hand placed on her belly, waiting patiently to see if their daughter would kick. Kimi curled herself up in his lap; the next best spot after Kyoko’s lap. She liked the heat that emanated from Makoto’s body best. 

“You know, Makoto, I’ve been thinking… and I realized that having this baby… it is almost as if we are experiencing a new beginning. A new chapter in our lives.”

He nodded, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. “I feel like that too,” He murmured into her hair, “Like we’ve been given a gift by fate.”

A gift by fate, she thought. She supposed it was a good way to look at having a baby. After all the trouble they saw in their lives, she wagered that they deserved a gift of life to call their own. Someone to care and nurture for. Someone to bring hope into their world by doing nothing but being themselves. 

“Exactly. A gift by a fate… but one that will ultimately change our lives. Everything is going to be so… so different now.”

“Is different okay?”

“Different is wonderful,” She assured him, resting her head on his shoulder, “It just means that we’ll likely have much to adapt to. Every aspect of our lives right down to Kimi will need be altered.”

To this, Makoto chuckled, and reached a hand down to pet Kimi. The feline responded with a pleased purr, urging him to scratch at her favourite spots. Based on the placement of his hand, he was in prime ear scratching position. “I don’t think we have to worry about Kimi too much,” He laughed, “She’s going to be the best big sister in the world. Aren’t you, Kimi? That’s why you’re our good girl!”

A cute mew escaped Kimi’s mouth at the praise. Somehow she always knew when she was being called a good girl. Makoto’s tendency to use his baby voice probably helped, Kyoko imagined. 

“A big sister, huh…” 

“Yeah! Just think of the way the two of them will play together! The two of them chasing our feet under the covers, and gently bopping each other on the nose! Our son or daughter will love doing that stuff with her! Kimi can even teach them about the world. She’ll be amazing.”

Kyoko fought off the frown that threatened to consume her when his words echoed in her mind. The hope was that their cat would be able to meet their baby, and do so many of those cute things… But fate stole that away from them. 

Somewhere within the last two months or so of Kyoko’s pregnancy, Kimi started acting strangely. At first, it was a simple matter of hiding. Rather than rushing to the door and mewling excitedly at them when they returned home, it seemed as if she ran and hid at the first sign of them. She dove under beds and dressers, snuck behind the refrigerator and the dryer, and even returned to her laundry basket hiding spot. What was worse, though, was that she seemed irritable every time they found her. It was as if when they were there, she wished only for them to go away. She detested them for pulling her out of her hiding spots, and did not hesitate to show it. 

Eventually her behaviour began to shift even further; before they knew it, she changed completely. Soon, the feral turned sociable sweetheart they knew became a reclusive being of bitterness. Whenever they walked through the door, she wanted little to do with them. She became irritated if they tried to touch her, and wanted to be independent from them at all costs. Even when she would wake up in the middle of the night wheezing and nearly unable to breathe, she scorned them. She would hiss and swat at Makoto when he tried to give her the medication to treat it. It was as if she suddenly didn’t care for them at all. 

The couple couldn’t understand why their once loving companion had suddenly turned against them. Despite her originally being feral and wary, Kimi warmed up to them right away. They were her humans, and she’d always loved them. She would cuddle them when they were sad, play with them when they were bored, and try to feed them when she thought they were hungry. Kimi never acted like this prior to those last few months, and the thought scared them half to death. At the time, they were wondering if she intended to gear up to run away. They didn’t think that she could really be dying. They didn’t realize that it had been three years since they picked her up off that despairful road, and that being sixteen years old meant that Kimi was old.

The whole thing only became clear to them when she stopped eating. God, Kyoko would admit that she bawled when that happened. But she’d always preface that when it occurred, she was seven months pregnant and dealing with insane baby hormones. So, you know, the crying like a little girl was understandable for the typically stoic detective. And, to be fair, Makoto cried too, but he had no “excuses”. He was just an emotional guy.

Her heart stung when she reflected back on the moments she spent next to Kimi and her bowl; her face stained with tears. She could remember the way her lip trembled and her hands shook, and the way Kimi stared at her as if she didn’t know what to do. 

“Why will you not eat?” She asked the feline, sniffling. Cautiously, she reached a hand over to pat her head, only to have her recoil from her touch. The movement only made the heavily pregnant detective cry harder. “Please, Kimi.”

Her husband’s hand found a place on her shoulder. She had been so distraught that her first desire was to shove it off, but she dismissed it. He sought only to help her, that much she knew well.

“I think we should take her to see someone.” He said, his voice soft and caring, like he feared his every word would make her upset. She could hear the way he tried to hide its tremble. “Apparently there’s a former vet operating in the marketplace that’s pretty good. We could take her to see him… see if we can get her to eat.”

She smiled slightly, wiping at her wet eyes with the back of her hand. In a way, she kind of liked the way he used “we”. It made her realize that she wasn’t totally alone in the way this made her feel. He was going through it just as much as she. It was the way he phrased things again, after the vet told them the news.

“So what do we want to do?”

They were both crying then; totally shamelessly, too. Snot dripping from their noses and tears smeared across their faces and the wails of anguish at knowing this was coming. The whole nine yards. She remembered that he’d tried to keep it together for her at first, fighting off the tears to ask the vet for time to think about it. However, the moment the vet freed Makoto of his burdening presence, he broke down. 

“What can we do?” Kyoko whimpered, pitifully attempting to catch her breath between sobs. “She’s dying. If we keep her alive, she suffers until she dies. You heard what he said, she’s old and sore…”

Makoto sniffled, wiping snot on the back of his hand. Still as gross as it was the first four times he did it, she remarked internally to herself. But now was not the time for snarky statements. They were grieving. 

“B-But if we choose to put her down, then w-w-we… we have to say goodbye.”

She nodded. “I know… I know…”

“God,” Makoto murmured, clutching at the fabric of his jeans and scrunching it up, “I forgot how hard this is… Holding the decision of another being’s life in your hands…”

Kyoko didn’t have the words to answer that statement. Though the killing game’s trials were not comparable to the decision to euthanize their pet, they still held the same emotion. She could remember feeling something like this, when Junko decided it was Sakura’s turn to go. 

“I… I t-thought this was supposed to be our new beginning… I thought we were supposed to be done with making choices like this, and we could just… g-go on being happy for once!”

“I know…” was the only thing Kyoko could think to say. It was something that Makoto shook his head to. “I know…”

“I don’t want her to be in pain, b-b-but… I’ll miss her when she’s gone.”

When she’s gone, Kyoko thought. When she no longer curls up on my belly, or pushes Makoto’s glasses off the counter. When she doesn’t pee on the cabinets when we leave her for too long, or poke her head in on me while I'm in the shower. It seemed so unthinkable that some day soon, Kimi might be gone.  
_____________

They buried Kimi in their garden seven years ago, next to a little birch sapling. To give her the new beginning she promised. 

Over the years, that beginning grew. It grew and grew into a powerful tree. It was long, and tall, with a white trunk and olive green leaves. A very proud tree, for a very proud cat, who had her little sister hanging upside from her branches like a monkey.

“Look at me, Koichi! Look! I’m up so high!” The little girl giggled, swinging back and forth like an acrobat preparing to make a great landing. “Bet you can’t do this!”

From further down, the voice of Kimi’s little brother sounded. “I don’t think I want to,” He whimpered, “That looks so scary, Hope! What if you fall?”

“I’ll be fine!” She brushed some of her hair away from her face with her free hand, “This is Kimi’s tree, remember? Mommy and Daddy planted it for her! That’s why as long as I’m up here, I’m totally safe!”

Kyoko could do little more than fold her arms frustratedly when she caught this sight. Though she adored that her daughter knew the story behind the tree, her son was right. Hanging from the tree like that was far too dangerous to be okay. 

“Hope, come on! Get down from there!”

Her daughter immediately started to whine. “But Mooooooommy…! How am I supposed to be a great gymnast some day if I can’t do stuff like this?”

She opened her mouth to protest the girl, but thankfully, her husband swooped in to take charge. He was already halfway up the tree, trying to apprehend the overly eager seven year old. It was hard not to snicker at his determination… or at the way his feet would slip ever so slightly when he stepped wrong.

“You can practice on Friday, when you’re at the gym, pumpkin. It’s not safe to do it here.”

“But what about Kimi? I thought you said she was like our family’s protector spirit, and that we could play together.”

Kyoko chuckled softly. She did like the way he told that story. And it seemed like her daughter did, too. 

“Of course she is,” Makoto said, finally climbing up close enough to swing his daughter into a safer position in the tree, “And she told me that she wants you to practice on Friday, because we planted her to play safely with you.”

Hope’s lower lip stuck out in a pout, but she obliged, taking hold of the branch tightly. The sight made her mother sigh with immediate relief. Life was so much more comfortable when she wasn’t anticipating her children’s next disaster, but she supposed it was more interesting that way. 

And she and Makoto had Kimi to thank for that.


	5. Fidget

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makoto's finally popped the big question, and he assumes that at this point, he and Kyoko have to put everything in its place. Including discussions of physical intimacy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello! Welcome back to another chapter. Today's prompt is Fidget, and for it, I chose to write about Makoto and Kyoko having the intimacy conversation. I've seen a few other people write it in the past, but I wanted to give my take on it. As it is a conversation about sex, I must issue a warning that there are slight references to NSFW things, but they are incredibly slight. In all honesty, it's like 99.999% fluff piece. So don't worry too much if that bothers you.
> 
> That being said, I hope you enjoy and have a wonderful day!

This wasn’t the first time Makoto geared up to have a conversation about his and Kyoko’s intimacy. 

No, they’d been forced to have this conversation before. Years before, when they were both younger, and more naive… More willing to promise things to one another that led to breaking the ones they couldn’t keep. 

“Let’s try for our one year anniversary,” Kyoko had said, her voice confident, “It should be enough time by then. We were friends for so long before we started seeing each other. From a sensible perspective, we should be able to do it then.”

That was the first promise to him Kyoko broke. Not that he cared all that deeply. Really, it stung his heart to think about the way she looked that night, trying desperately to be okay with everything that was happening. Her lips smushed so uncomfortably against his own, and her arms wrapped around his back tightly. He could feel the tremors in her body as she forced herself further onto him; he struggled to tell whether she was overly eager or forcing herself to do it at first. Her legs suddenly wrapped themselves around his waist, and she guided one of his hands towards the strap of her silky red dress. He remembered the way he swallowed uncomfortably at the thought. He wanted this. He wanted her. How could he not? She was right in front of him, her violet eyes sparkling and her ruby lips offering themselves to him… her body wrapped around his own, and her hands guiding him to remove her clothing, but… No. He couldn’t do it. He wouldn’t do it. He forced himself back, breaking their kiss, and bursting into a melody of panting.

“What’s the matter?” Kyoko questioned, raising one of her brows at him. It amazed him that she wasn’t struggling to catch her breath like he was. “Why did you stop?”

“Why didn’t you?” He recalled shooting back, his chest heaving slightly as he tried to catch up with himself. God, he must have been holding his breath the whole time they were making out. 

“Why would I?” Her hands drifted slowly down from the back of his neck, towards his shoulders. A signal that things were getting less and less sexual by the second. “I thought you wanted to make love tonight.” 

Makoto couldn’t help but clench his jaw. Did she think he couldn’t tell? Was she convinced that he wouldn’t want her to stop if they were uncomfortable? He hoped she knew him better than that. He kept his fingers crossed, praying that wasn’t the case.

“I do, but…” He paused, his brows lowering in concern, “Kyoko, you don’t, do you?”

Silence. Her features twisted; her gaze darting away from him. She could feel him start to clutch onto the dress jacket he’d worn out to dinner. God, why didn’t she say something? He hated seeing her so distressed like this. He could barely find it within himself to look at her, with her whole body trembling like that.

“I…” She licked her lips, suddenly squeezing her eyes shut. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” She released him from between her legs almost immediately; the two of them wiggling into a more comfortable upright position. “It’s okay.” 

It’s okay.

And it was. Of course Makoto had wanted to be intimate with her, to connect with her in that way, but he would never force it. He wouldn’t let her force herself into it, either. Sex as a concept between the two of them had already been hard enough for Kyoko to wrap her head around; the last thing he desired to do was make it worse for her. Letting her force herself into the act would have done just that. 

So he did the only thing he could think to do; he ensured that they closed that conversation for awhile. Three years, to be exact. The same length of time it took for Makoto to pop the big question. That was what placed the conversation on the table for them once again. 

Having gotten so close to doing it before did not make this conversation any simpler to have. If anything, it made it dramatically worse. Makoto wasn’t sure what he should say or do to make sure she prepared more than she did last time, yet he knew Kyoko would fail to lend him a hand in this. It was strange, he thought, that it was just hitting him now that he was unaccustomed to taking the lead. 

He did what he could to make the situation comfortable. The conversation would already be hard enough; he assumed it to be the least he could do. He set up the scene as nicely as he could in their living room; even going as far as picking a sunny day to make the mood lighting cheerful. The windows were thrown open, welcoming a fresh spring breeze into their home. Since the weather was just getting warmer, he figured they wouldn’t leave them open for too long. Just enough to make Kyoko feel like she could breathe. On either side of their plush couch, he’d set up a cozy spot for her. No matter where she chose to sit for the conversation, she would be comfy against two feather throw pillows. Before she’d come down, he’d even gone as far as brewing them each a cup of coffee the way they liked it. Kyoko’s was totally black, as always, while his was mixed with sugars and creams. He’d even picked out her favourite mug to serve it in, and ensured that it was not too hot nor too cold. Just the right temperature to enjoy with an awkward conversation about sex.

Still, all of his attempts, right down to the coffee temperature, would be in vain. In spite of the sunny window, the fresh air, the pleasant seating, and the warm drinks… Makoto found himself fidgeting uncontrollably when they actually sat down to talk. No matter how relaxed he hoped it might be, he knew that some things just weren’t going to work in his favour. 

“Kyoko, before we start, I wanted to ask you how you’re feeling.”

Her grip tightened on her cup’s handle almost immediately. If he guessed, he would probably say that that was a sign of malaise. Her avoidance of eye contact only clued him in further, and he wanted to kick himself. Way to put your bride-to-be on the defence in one sentence, he scolded internally.

“I… It’s a large step forward for us…” She stuttered, trying to find the right words, “I find it challenging to even think about myself being vulnerable to you in such a way…”

Makoto swallowed. Quietly, he prayed to himself that that wasn’t her way of stating that his behaviour in the bedroom worried her. If their first attempt should have been anything to her, it should have been evidence that she could trust him to not take advantage of her. But maybe that wasn’t what she meant. He held out hope that she meant something else.

“I understand that… This is kind of hard for me, too,” He confessed, swirling around the coffee in his mug, “I’ve um… I’ve never actually…”

“You’re still a virgin.” 

He blushed at her finishing for him, but nodded softly. “Yeah. I’ve never been with anyone else before… and I’m guessing you haven't either…”

She nodded, bearing down on her lip with her teeth. “You are correct. You will be my first.”

You will be. Although it was something small, those words made Makoto comforted, albeit only marginally. Clearly she intended to engage in the act somehow; he just wished it to be of her own volition. Like he said a million times before, he wasn’t interested in sleeping with Kyoko unless she was one-hundred percent interested in sleeping with him. 

“So that’s some common ground we have. That’s good, right?” 

She shrugged unhelpfully. Jeez, he’d almost forgotten how silent Kyoko could be when she wanted to. Rather than paying close attention to what he was saying, she picked at the studs on her gloves nervously. A sign that them both being virgins wasn’t helpful enough.

“Can I ask what about being vulnerable to me scares you?” 

Had there been coffee in the detective’s mouth, she definitely would have choked. Hell, Makoto could have sworn that she choked on her own spit. Judging by her reaction, he figured the chances were that the response would be a short one. It all but showed in the way she flicked her head up at him; her gaze strangely fearful. 

“I suppose a lot of it comes from the fact that I haven’t done this before, and it’s an act that… requires a lot of trust in the other party.”

Makoto felt his heart drop into his stomach. “Do you find it difficult to trust me…?”

Alarm flickered across Kyoko’s face with an instance. Before he knew it she was shaking her head frantically, and raising a hand up so quickly that she sloshed coffee on her skirt. “Oh, no! That isn’t what I intended to say at all!” She fumbled, “What I meant was that… I have to trust that I will trust you in the moment. Going into uncharted territory with someone is always difficult, and I often fail to trust myself when things start. I know that I’m secure, when I’m with you, it’s just that I…”

She sighed and brushed a strand of hair away from her face, her shoulders slumping sadly. The poor thing’s words caught in her throat as she attempted to explain them, but Makoto felt as if he had a bit of a sense of what she was conveying. 

“Are you worried that you’ll freak out in the moment because it’s scary, and you’ll worry that you can’t trust me?” 

Her hand flipped back and forth. “M-More or less…”

Maybe he didn’t have it to an exact science, but at least he could partially read her. He’d just need her to guide him the rest of the way. He placed a sympathetic hand on her thigh, and watched her expectantly. As much as he tried to decipher what little information she gave him, her words would have to be the thing that took his comprehension all the way. With something as delicate as this, reliance on assumption would break them. Being overt was the only way to go. 

“What else bothers you?”

The detective’s head bowed once again. “What you said is a piece of it, but the other part is that I…” Though she did her best to hide her face, he witnessed the blush that spread across it. All over it, really. She turned beet red in a matter of seconds. “I want to be good for you. I want to please you, and I… I want this to be an experience that you enjoy, because I know how badly you want this. If I get nervous, and I pull back, I know I’ll have failed you. I don’t think I could stand to do that. I want to make you happy.”

Makoto shook his head, leaning forward to lift her chin. “Hey, you’re not failing me if you decide you’re not ready for sex.” He smiled softly at her, mustering up the kindest tone he could manage. “This isn’t just about me. If I want this, I want it for both of us. All I want with this is to connect with you, and… and to be with you in a way that is enjoyable and pleasurable for the both of us. But if you want to wait, that’s okay. Hell, Kyoko, if you never want to have sex, then let’s never have sex. Some traditional rite of passage means so little to me in comparison to you.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of Kyoko’s mouth, as well as a rosier blush. “Thank you, Makoto,” She paused, “But I want you to know that… I’m really in it, this time. Though I’m absolutely terrified, I want to do this. I just... need to find a way to make the situation less overwhelming.” 

A soft chuckle escaped him as he moved to plant a quick kiss on her lips. He couldn’t help but notice how she leaned into it a little herself. Clearly, the affection was appreciated, for she giggled cutely. “Then let’s figure it out together… We can think of it like another one of our investigations.”

Her brows raised at the word. “Investigations?” 

He never really realized how easy it was to pique her interest in something. It turned out all he had to do was throw in detective words. Maybe I should throw in words like ‘clues’ and ‘evidence’ when she inevitably forgets that it’s her turn to do the dishes, he thought. But he tried not to let thoughts of chores impede his judgement of what to say right then. 

“Yeah! Think of it like... investigating a body. But instead of trying to figure out what killed the person, you’ll be trying to find what makes them feel good. And instead of a corpse, you’ll be working with your partner.” It was a weird analogy, Makoto knew that. But still, he figured it would work as he needed it to. “You and I will just work together like always, searching for clues and answers on each other’s bodies to reach a conclusion. And in the end, we’ll come up with a solution to the mystery, which will… y’know… draw us closer to the light.”

Blushes crossed both of their faces at that point, and the couple turned away from each other. They didn’t need words to know where they were leading themselves. Anything more would just be pushing beyond the self-explanatory, and Makoto felt that to be unnecessary. Just the basics of the analogy was all they needed.

“Does that help at all?”

His fiance stopped for a moment to think, tapping her chin. Then, with a cheerful grin on her face, she nodded. “Indeed. I think that helped plenty.”

It became his turn to smile as he scooched closer to her, placing his head on her shoulder. “I’m glad.”

“As am I,” She snickered, leaning close to kiss the side of his head, “I look forward to our investigation.”


	6. Flutter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makoto's brushes with death have come a little too close for comfort. He has words he needs to say to Kyoko, and he needs to say them now. No butterflies will be getting the best of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! I'm back with Day Six: Flutter. Can you believe that tomorrow is the last day of Naegiri Week? I'm strangely both sad and relieved. I love writing for Naegiri Week because it's an opportunity to write about my favourite couple, but... it's also deeply exhausting. It would probably help if I weren't such an epic procrastinator. 
> 
> Still, here's the story for today. I have no warnings to issue to you! This should be safe and wholesome! I hope you enjoy, and have a very good night! I hope you will join me again tomorrow for the last Naegiri Week 2019 hoorah!

This was it. This was the moment. 

Kyoko sitting across from him; her face untouched by the purplish hues of poison. His own just as clear of the blues of bruising, and the white bandages across his fractured-for-the-second-time nose. Their bodies both exhausted from the work it takes to fix a recovering world, and their eyes soft as they stared at each other. It was so rare that they got a minute to relax and breathe, yet Makoto couldn’t bring himself to settle. While Kyoko had already taken to stretching out on the couch and slipping her work jacket off her shoulders; his heart pounded so raucously that he could hear it in his ears. 

To be fair, she could settle a little more, given that she didn’t know that he was about to confess that he was in love with her. 

He could only hope that she didn’t already know. She was a detective, after all. Knowing everything about everyone practically her job. Everyone struggled to keep secrets from her; himself included. At this point, he half-worried it was only a matter of time until she said something to him.

Or maybe she already had, and he just hadn’t noticed. She had kissed him, after all. In private. With no one else around. During a tender moment between the two of them; where she cared for his wounds. But how much could that really mean? 

Thinking about that struck fear in his heart. While he didn’t necessarily want Kyoko to know already that he was deeply in love with her; he also didn’t want everything to be meaningless to her. He’d greatly enjoyed their time together, and that sweet secret kiss they’d shared… If he confessed and she rejected him, he felt certain that he would die on the spot. 

“Wow… I did not think I would be this exhausted tonight…” Kyoko remarked, letting out a cute grunt as she stretched her arm towards the ceiling. He couldn’t help but notice how one of her eyes squeezed shut as she did so. Cute, he thought to himself.

He couldn’t help but shrug his shoulders in response. “Well, you are the Branch Leader. I imagine your job’s pretty tough right about now. I’m not surprised that you’re tired.”

It became the detective’s turn to shrug; her hands moving to play with her hair. He couldn’t help but notice how casual she was being, playing with her hair in front of him like that. She’d even swung her legs up onto the couch, so they were stretched across his lap. “These days, I’m mostly just stuck in meetings and doing paperwork. You have the important job, being a figurehead for public relations. I admit, I struggle to comprehend how you can possibly be so comfortable talking in front of people like that. It’s a gift of some kind.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s a gift, per se…” But he appreciated her saying it. So much so that he felt his face start to flush, and not just because he was a couple minutes away from pouring his heart into her lap. “I guess I just… like giving people the reassurance that everything will be okay. Especially with everything we’ve been doing lately… The progress has been exceptional.”

She nodded in agreement; a grin threatening to overtake her expression. “It really has been superlative. I’m highly impressed with the job everyone has done. You, most of all.”

The smaller boy blinked, his voice squeaking as he attempted to answer. “M-Me?”

She raised a brow, a smirk protruding through her iron mask. “Does that come as a surprise?” 

“Well… a little, I guess.” He laughed awkwardly. If he had to be honest, he wasn’t sure whether the praise from her made him feel more or less sure of himself. Was she saying that stuff because she loved him and wanted to indirectly know? Or did she just think he was a great employee? Employee-zoned. If she didn’t want to date him, he imagined he could respect it, but the thought of being just an employee to her made him nervous. He wanted to be her friend at least. “You know I don’t tend to think of myself or my work as anything special.”

Kyoko sighed, shaking her head. “I know… and I rather wish you would. You always do such an extraordinary job. I meant it when I called you the Ultimate Hope.” She leaned forward to nudge his shoulder affectionately. It was done with the awkward tenderness of someone who had never done it before. “I’m not so sure that there are many people who could work as diligently as you after going through what you did. It both impressed and worried me that you were so eager to jump back into the workforce after the Future Foundation killing game.”

Though he knew she didn’t mean anything by it, he detested how calmly the words rolled off her tongue. Despite the time that passed by, the incident still felt so fresh in his mind. Nightmares of the incident still haunted his sleeping hours, forcing him awake in a blur of horrifying memories. Kyoko’s passing was always his worst of all. Every time it crossed his unconscious mind, he woke up with a tear-stained pillowcase.

“I… needed something to take my mind off it I guess.” He murmured gracelessly; his eyes falling down to stare at his lap… and the legs that lay upon them. Her legs. He hadn’t realized how close she was to him until that moment. “There was a lot I learned during that killing game that I thought I could use to help people.”

“Such as…?”

The prodding didn’t mean much. It was just a simple means of conversation, but he knew he could get it to work in his favour. He swallowed, feeling the lump in his throat. If he worked this properly, it would be possible to segway it into the targeted conversation… although he hated to think of how easy it was to jump from death to love in such a short period of time.

“I feel like I learned so much more about loss and the value of life, and the differing ways that people cope with their despair… and what we can do to save them. I think what put the nail in that coffin for me was actually experiencing that low myself… where everything is dark, and cold, and there’s no light at the end of the tunnel… When it seems like there’s nowhere to go but down.”

He shivered at the memory; the calling of Kyoko’s voice in his ear. Even weeks after the ordeal, her tone was still so sharp in his mind. Or had the voice belonged to Sayaka…? The hallucination had blended together in his mind; his whole head aching when he thought of it. At this point, it was as if both girls had whispered the same atrocities.

You should have died instead of us. 

Kyoko tucked her feet up close to her body suddenly. At first, he expected it to be out of fear for his behaviour. But as her expression softened, and she shuffled closer to him, he realized that couldn’t possibly be the case. Kyoko wasn’t the kind of person to abandon a friend in need. 

“Don’t think about it if you don’t have to.” 

“I always have to… It’s always there.” He protested, closing his eyes tightly. “And I can’t make it go away. I won’t, but… It still taught me so much of what I need to know. Not just for helping people, but for going through life as well. It made me realize that you can’t always wait for the right moment for things to happen. That you don’t always have forever with someone.”

Kyoko’s brows lowered even further, and she placed a concerned hand on his thigh. “Makoto-kun… what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that… that when you died, I felt like my whole world fell apart. Like I lost apart of myself.”

“Naegi-kun…” He couldn’t decipher the tone she spoke in, or the emotion it held. He knew only that she said his name.

“I mean it. When I thought I lost you, it was like I’d lost almost everything. If it weren’t for what you did for me, I wouldn’t have known where to go or what to do. Your life and your sacrifice meaning something… it’s one of the only things that kept me going, and doing things that were tough. I didn’t have it in me to let your sacrifice be in vain. I just… I couldn’t bear to have lost you, so it’s all I could rely on. I couldn’t bear it, because… Well, there’s a lot of reasons because…”

The lavender-haired woman leaned in closer; her voice near a whisper. “Reasons like what?”

Makoto stopped himself for a moment, and inhaled deeply. This would be it. This would be the moment.

“Reasons like… my being in love with you.”

Kyoko jerked herself back suddenly, blinking at him like he had randomly sprouted a second head. Shock wrote itself all over her expression; her mouth hanging open at his confession. Her eyes were wide and round as she watched him; a meek blush skirting across her cheeks and nose. 

“You were… in love with me?”

Makoto shook his head. “I am in love with you. Present tense.”

“I… I’m afraid I don’t understand.” She fumbled with the studs on her gloves, unexpectedly unwilling to look him in the face.

Makoto could feel them now. The butterflies beating about in his belly. At the start of the conversation, he might have described their feeling as a light flutter… but now they were a thundering roar. They urged him to speak his truth, no matter the eccentricities of her reaction

“Kyoko, I’m… I’m madly in love with you. I think I have been for a long time now… even before the whole Tragedy thing. I know it’s a lot for you to hear, and you’re probably not ready, but I… I just… I love you, Kyoko. And I couldn’t live with you not knowing anymore. Not after what happened. I need to take this moment to tell you while I still have the chance.”

The air between them fell still. He found himself clutching tightly onto his work pants in some pathetic attempt to ground himself, for he felt rather certain that this wasn’t going to go as he’d hoped. Kyoko was kind, and beautiful, and intelligent. He knew thinking that someone like her would want to be with him was daydreaming a little too hard.

The look on her face wasn’t doing him many favours either. She began to run her fingers through the strands of hair that hung loose from her ponytail, her eyes focused on literally anything but his face. Despite the bowing of her head, however, he could see how rapidly she blinked. It almost seemed as if she wasn’t processing what he said at all. 

When the silence broke, it wasn’t with an answer. Quite the opposite, actually. It was a small set of words, uttered in an even smaller voice. Like Kyoko’s own had been stolen away from her in a matter of seconds, and replaced with a mockery of it.

“Are you sure?”

He gulped quietly. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

“But… why?”

“What do you mean… why?”

“I mean: why? Why me?” Her head lifted up scantly. As much as he craved it, he couldn’t read her expression. Some sort of mix between worried and auspicious, he guessed. It was all he could judge from the curve of her eyebrows and the glimmer in the pools of violet that were her eyes.

“You’re… amazing, Kyoko. You’re brilliant, and kind, and talented… not to mention incredibly beautiful. Being with you is like being on an adventure every day. We always have so much fun together, and you never let me short change myself over anything. You care about me and all of our other friends so deeply, even if you may not show it obviously. You’re like the coolest girl I’ve ever met. I might even say that my falling in love with you was inevitable.” 

The detective’s face turned bright pink. For a moment, it seemed as if she were unable to respond. Then, just as suddenly, she leaned towards him again. 

“Makoto. Could you say that again?”

“Say what again?”

She closed her eyes. “That you’re in love with me.”

He paused, biting his lip. Where was she going with this? 

“Kyoko, I’m in love with you.”

“Again.”

“Kyoko, I’m in love with you.”

“Again.”

“Kyoko, I’m in love with- mmf!”

Oh god. She was doing it again. Kyoko was kissing him again. In the form of the most ferocious affection he’d ever felt, he might add. Not that that made it unenjoyable — quite the opposite, if he were being honest. Feeling the softness of her lips against his own for a second time was just as extraordinary as the first; perhaps even more so this time around. His eyes fluttered shut without thinking, and he found himself wrapping his arms around her. She reciprocated just as well, choosing to drape her arms around his neck. 

It had been so little time, and yet he wondered how he could have forgotten the taste of her lips. This time around the flavour was caught somewhere between the sugary sweetness of the balm she wore, and the dark smooth taste of coffee. If he were being honest, he wasn’t sure which he loved more. Or maybe there wasn’t one. Maybe he just loved that he was kissing her the most. 

He wasn’t exactly sure when they broke apart. He only knew that for him, it was too soon. He assumed it must have been after awhile: both of them were panting and short of breath by the end. When they finally did manage to separate, though, he found himself staring at her. Kyoko’s gaze fixed itself so intently on him, and for a moment, it seemed like time had stopped. The only things that were allowed to move were the beating butterflies in his stomach, and her lips as she whispered the words:

“I think I’m in love with you too.”


	7. Investigate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyoko's always had such a hard time with Christmas Eve, and Makoto just wants to do what he can to make it nice. The only issue is that he's misplaced the thing that is supposed to cheer her up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are everyone; our last day of Naegiri Week 2019. I am back with one final one-shot for the season, with absolutely no warnings to issue. 
> 
> Before we get into the one-shot, I just want to say a quick thank you to everyone who supported my work throughout the week. It's been absolutely amazing to see the readings, the kudos, and especially the comments go up numerically. Nothing is more validating than knowing that there are people out there who enjoy my work. I say it all the time, but it's people who take the time to show their support that keep us writers going! So you have my gratitude for that. 
> 
> Hopefully I will find some of you reading my fics again in the future - maybe some of you typically tune in for the Naegiri content, or are awaiting the next chapter of Danganronpa 21 eagerly. Maybe others among you are here for the first time, and in that case: hi! Wherever you come from, I just want to say thanks. And I hope you enjoy, and have a wonderful day! And of course, happy holidays to you!

Christmas Eve traditionally tended to be a bad time to ask Kyoko for help. 

“It’s a challenging day of the year for me,” She had told him a few days prior, her tone not at all mimicking the nature of her words, “So I prefer not to be bothered much throughout its duration.”

When Makoto had inquired as to why, she pushed past it. Something sharp and snappy was said, but it went ignored. They’d been friends for long enough for him to know when he was supposed to take certain things to heart. So conversation-wise, they left it at that. They left it knowing that Kyoko found Christmas Eve to be a tough day of the year, and that Makoto shouldn’t bother her too much because of it. Pretty simple stuff. 

But even if that was the conclusion that was drawn, that certainly wouldn’t stop Makoto from doing what he could to cheer her up. One could always assume that there were a few certainties in life: One, death. Two, life. Three, Makoto Naegi being physically unable to avoid doing nice things for friends that were feeling down. So naturally, the luckster picked up the slack. He’d been oh so proud of himself at the time; so glad to have found a way to help Kyoko feel better during such a rough time of year.

Really, the only problem was that the slack he’d picked up had gone horribly missing. 

“Where could they be…?” He groaned to himself, shuffling through just about everything in his bedroom. He’d already torn apart his desk and the top of his dresser trying to figure out where he placed it, and so far had come up with nothing. He hoped that wouldn’t be the case for the surface of his bedside table as he turned towards it, expecting more than what it would give. “Of all the times to lose something…!”

With one fell swoop, he pushed all of the books off of his bedside table. Probably not the best idea if he intended to keep his present in tact, but he thought that it could maybe be a good way of revealing the contents of its surface. The issue was that only books and personal hygiene products hit the ground, spilling papers and deodorant all over his bedroom floor. No signs of the little box he’d wrapped Kyoko’s gift in. 

“Of course. Of course it’s not here!” He griped to himself; his arms thrown into the air dramatically. A low grumble escaped his throat as he glared at the table, cursing it for not being the hiding spot of Kyoko’s present. “God… where could it be…?”

Pushing a hand through his hair, Makoto decided to take a couple of steps back. Perhaps if he surveyed the room for a minute or two, the box would make itself seen. He just had to make sure he was keeping an eye out for the right things. A little box covered in pink wrapping paper; tied nicely with a silky white bow. It shouldn’t be so hard to find. It wasn’t like Makoto had a lot of shiny pink things in his bedroom. 

His eyes scanned the room once more. As he looked around the room, he swore he could feel the weight of his worry on his shoulders. Christmas Eve in Japan was… well, it was one of the most romantic nights of the year. And even despite her hardships with the time, Kyoko had agreed to go out with him for this one night. He planned to take her somewhere nice, and give her a gift, so maybe she wouldn’t have to feel so sad. Whether she chose to interpret his actions as a flirtatious gesture was up to her. He would accept things no matter how they came. All he wanted was for her to feel loved. In order to do that, though, they would need to fulfill his other want: finding that box.

BAM! BAM! BAM!

Of all times to get there! The knocking on his front door was unmistakable. Of course Kyoko would be there early. Normally she was the kind of person who didn’t really think of other people’s time; it all but showed in her tendency to be late to class. Almost every other time he’d asked her to hang out were another piece of evidence to the case. Of course just this once, when she needed to be tardy, she wasn’t. His hands curled into fists at the frustration of hearing the door open, and the sound of his mother’s voice greeting Kyoko.

“Hi Kirigiri-san!” He heard the older woman’s silvery voice chirp, “It’s good to see you again. Makoto’s just upstairs getting ready. I can go get him for you, if you like.”

Makoto sighed. At least he could be comforted by the fact that his mother had finally learned that Kyoko wasn’t a talker. The first time she’d come to visit the house, she’d bombarded her with all kinds of questions about herself. When Kyoko dodged practically every single one, his mother worried that the girl disliked her. Which, in turn, led to her son explaining to her that Kyoko was shy and reticent. Fortunately, that had been enough to get her to stop pushing the next time the two of them were in the same room.

“Actually, Mrs. Naegi, I wondered if I might speak to Naegi-kun myself. I have something I need to ask him before we leave.” 

He froze when he caught those words. Oh god, what was he going to tell her about his bedroom? He planned for her gift to be a surprise. He’d need to come up with some sort of excuse for the mess of papers and knick-knacks strewn across the hardwood floors. 

“Sure thing! His bedroom’s just up there, first door on your right.” 

Makoto didn’t hear Kyoko say thank you, but he assumed she probably nodded it. Her choosing to be quiet around his mother seemed more likely that him choosing to be impolite. Dread built in his stomach as he listened to her footsteps as they pounded against the staircase hard and strong as she made her way up. Likely on account of her high-heeled boots; she seemed to pair them with every outfit. Even for a winter’s night, he noted. Which was absolutely the wrong thing to note, given that his room was a mess and he had no excuse as to why. He supposed it was at least something that made her entrance more dramatic, as she swung into the doorway of his bedroom. Her brows were raised in surprise almost immediately. 

The first and only thing he thought to do when she caught sight of him was grin sheepishly, offering a tiny wave. “H-Hey, Kirigiri-san.”

The detective’s face screamed confusion; her head tilting as she rushed to comprehend the information she was taking in. Her brows were furrowed together slightly, and he could see her pursing her lips. 

“Did a bomb go off in here?”

Kind of rude, he thought, but pushed the thought away. He forced himself to laugh instead, but he could tell it did little to convince Kyoko that what she said something humorous. “N-No, I just…” He paused, scrambling for a last minute excuse, “I was looking for something.”

Pathetic and also truthful. Jeez, he hadn’t realized that he was such a bad liar. Maybe he needed to get Celestia to coach him sometime.

Kyoko’s expression remained dubious; still scrutinizing the details of his bedroom rather than the details of his face. “... Right.” 

“Actually… Kirigiri-san, do you think you could help me?” He asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet, “I really need to find it before we go out.”

She folded her arms across her chest; he couldn’t help but notice how she puffed it up proudly at being asked. She wasn’t kidding about taking pride in her work, no matter how small the job. “What am I investigating?” 

Blood flowed to Makoto’s face at the question. Well, now that she’d seen the room, he imagined he would have to tell her what she was looking for. Sure, it wouldn’t be a surprise anymore, but hopefully it was still possible for her to enjoy the gift anyway. 

His inner self-reassurance didn’t stop him from scratching at his cheek, though. “You see, the other day, when you told me that you don’t feel so great on Christmas Eve, I got to thinking… I know this time of year is hard for you, and I don’t really know what for. So I decided I would make you a little Christmas gift. You know, to help you feel better.” 

Kyoko nodded in recognition, but showed no semblance of happiness. Typical. She could be bouncing for joy underneath that iron mask of hers, and he wouldn’t have a clue. 

“I see…” A hand flew to her chin; her usual signal that she was diving into deep thought. “And I imagine you misplaced my gift?”

His shoulders slumped a little at the confession. “Unfortunately.”

“Well, I suppose now I have to help you find it, don’t I?” She sighed, striding into the room with a complete and total disregard for the floor clutter. This would prove to be her downfall, for she nearly got taken out by the stick of deodorant that had been swept to the floor. It was a stroke of good luck that allowed Makoto to catch her elbow and steady her. 

“If you’d still like it. What I thought we might do together tonight wasn’t anything time sensitive. We can afford to spend a few minutes looking around for your present.”

Letting out a small sigh, Kyoko steadied herself. Her gaze failed to meet Makoto’s as she studied the room; the gears in her mind already turning. With the way she acted, one might almost have believed that he hadn’t heard what he said. “What does the gift look like?”

“It’s small, and pink-”

“How small?”

“About… uh…” Makoto straightened out his hands and made the distance; he kept them about a shoebox-length apart. “This big.”

She nodded. “And you said it was pink?”

“Yes. A shiny pink. I tied it up with a white bow.”

For the first time that night, Kyoko laughed. A relatively small one, but still a laugh. She covered her mouth in an attempt to hide it, but he could still see it. He almost thought it to be the first he’d seen her laugh all day. Did his diligence with presents humour her? He hoped she knew that he always took gift-giving seriously. The birthday party they’d thrown for Mukuro and Junko at school earlier that day should have clued her into that. 

“Of course you did,” She sighed, “You are the kind of person to do that.”

He struggled to understand whether or not he should be offended“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She waved it off, choosing to step further into the room. “Just one more thing I can discern simply by examining you for more than three seconds.”

Makoto bristled slightly; unafraid to pout at the comment. Once again she was teasing him for being so open. Sometimes he couldn’t tell if she liked that about him, or if she found it annoying. He could only hope that this time it was meant to be complementary; he did intend to be subtly romantic with her that night, after all. It wouldn’t exactly bode well for him if she thought him to be an overt fool. 

He huffed half-exasperatedly. “Do you need any other clues to search? Like where I saw it last?”

She shrugged, closing one of her eyes as she searched the room. What that did, he couldn’t help but wonder. “Was it here that you last saw it?”

He nodded. Wrapping her gift was the last thing he’d done before bed. He remembered the whole thing so meticulously: placing the gift on the sheet of wrapping paper, measuring out the exact dimensions of the box, placing the tape on each individual corner. He found he could even recall the tying of the bow, and how he redid it a few times to make it perfect. Then, he’d placed it down somewhere for the next day. The same place where he’d put the presents he wrapped for Mukuro and Junko’s birthday. But when he returned home after a long day at their school party, Kyoko’s box was no longer there. And he knew he didn’t take it and give it to one of the twins by accident.

“Who else has been in this bedroom lately?” She inquired, her expression slowly but surely falling flat once again. “Is there anyone who comes in when you’re not here?”

“Not… usually, no. Most of the time it’s just me. Sometimes my mom if she needs a couple extra pieces of clothing for a load of her laundry…” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Other than that, no real regulars…”

“I see.”

A brief silence fell between them, but not for more than a few seconds. Instantly, a memory popped into his mind. One that he’d forgotten amongst all of the Christmas and birthday bustle.

“Oh, wait! Dad was in here last night. He asked if he could hide his gift for Mom in my room. They’re supposed to be going out on a date later tonight, and he didn’t want her to find it before he could give it to her.” 

Kyoko snapped her fingers, but it didn’t register in his ears. On account of it just be leather rubbing together, he predicted. He wondered if she ever missed the click ungloved hands made. “Where did he hide his gift for your mother?”

Makoto gestured towards his closet. “Top shelf. Where that box of old action figures is.” 

She laughed softly once again, strutting over to the closet. She pulled the doors open with ease, starting her search without wasting a lick of time. “Bit of an action figures kid, were you?”

He scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah,” He admitted, “I had a really big superhero phase when I was a kid. I collected all kinds of figures. Unfortunately, I can’t bear to part with them quite yet, even though I’m almost eighteen.”

“That’s perfectly normal,” She assured him, “I'll admit that I still have some of the dolls from my youth. Also, a bit of a side note really, but I think I found out the answer to your mystery.”

His ears perked up at the second phrase. Man, was she fast. Her Super High School Level Detective title was no joke. “Really? You did?”

She nodded. “Simple case of misplacement. Your father wrapped his gift in the same wrapping paper as you.” She pulled the gift down from the shelf to prove her point, the shiny paper glittering at both of them, “He probably thought that you’d taken his out for him, and he brought it along with him. You do kind things like that so often; it’s likely he wouldn’t have thought twice.” 

“That makes sense,” He laughed slightly, “Dad’s usually dragging me into his gifts for Mom. He can trust me not to blab like Komaru will.”

Kyoko chuckled softly, holding the present out to him. “Well, if it’s a logical conclusion, then you’d better go exchange the gift before your father goes out on that date. Judging by the weight of this box, I’d say he probably got her something as valuable as a necklace. We would not want him to panic over a switch like that, given how expensive Christmas Eve jewellery tends to be.”

Makoto accepted the package from her gratefully. “He did get her a necklace; he told me so. Green zircon pendant, I think. He said something about it reminding him of her eyes.”

“It would match her eyes well, yes.”

He blinked, taken aback by the observation. “I’m surprised you noticed.”

She shrugged. “They’re the same colour as yours.”

Nothing about how noticing things as a detective was in her nature. Just the simple statement that he and his mother shared the same eyes. Such a tiny comment, yet Makoto felt his heart skip a beat. He hoped she couldn’t see him start to blush at her comment. 

“Y-Yeah…” He paused for a minute, staring at the box in his hand.

“Well don’t just stand there. Go give it to him.” She urged, “I’ll be waiting in the foyer when you get back. We mustn’t take any longer getting to this amazing sight you wanted me to see.” 

A soft smile began to curve across his face. God, if he hadn’t liked her before, he really liked her now. 

“Yeah, okay. Thanks, Kirigiri-san.”

She winked. “It’s a detective’s job to investigate.”  
___________________

“Wow…”

Deciding which was twinkling more was a challenge — Makoto found himself severely caught between Kyoko’s eyes or the city lights. The sight didn’t allow him to fight off his smile as he leaned into her, his tone full of amusement. “Well, what did I tell you?” 

Her gaze fixed itself forward on the view. She didn’t seem prepared to look at him… but that was fine. He liked looking at her. “It’s… beautiful. Just as much as you said.”

“I knew you would like it.”

“I imagine I would have a harder time not liking it. The city is absolutely radiant from up here.”

So are you, Makoto desired to say, but he kept his lips sealed. Comments like that would be too forward, and he knew they both weren’t ready for that yet. They were still just two friends, having a nice night. Watching each other’s faces among the gleaming city lights. 

He didn’t quite catch what drew her back from the otherworldliness of the view. From one minute to the next, it seemed like she slowly slipped out of its hypnotism, turning to him with a smile on her face. Something he hadn’t expected to see, after how scantly she’d laughed that day.

“So am I allowed to open this gift of yours now?” She shook the package at him excitedly. He could see in her expression how much more relaxed she was now; her smile being a relatively lazy one.

“Of course. Rip into it.”

She wasted no time tearing into the wrapping paper like a small child, but not before she undid the bow and gently placed it aside. Makoto couldn’t help but remark to himself how cute it was that she had so much consideration for the aesthetics and maintenance of the bow. Just another one of her charming quirks, he supposed. 

Kyoko finished off the wrapping paper easily; practically the moment she tore into it. As soon as the wrapping paper had been torn from the box, the detective’s next challenge was sliding her finger underneath an edge to pry it open. Fortunately she was able to do so with little struggle, reaching into it. A small tray sat inside, and when Kyoko pinched it between her fingers and pulled it out… She revealed a gift of chocolates.

“Naegi-kun… did you make these?” Her voice was wrought with disbelief; her eyes wide.

He nodded. “I did. You know, there’s actually a lot of research that suggests that chocolate makes you happier. So I thought, what’s better this time of year than some homemade chocolates? Plus… a-admittedly, Asahina-san sort of told me about your secret fixation on chocolate.”

She shook her head. “Betrayed by my confidant,” She said mockingly, staring off into the distance as if she were in a detective noir, “How harrowing.”

There was no use in him fighting off his laugh; he chose to embrace it. Despite her tendency to be stoic, she always could crack a good joke. “Do you want to try one?”

“Undoubtedly.” She plucked one from the tray and popped it into her mouth. Within an instant, her eyebrows raised. She chewed for a few seconds, only to stop suddenly. He hoped that meant something good. She confirmed his hopes by starting to suck on the chocolate; her intent to make it last longer clear as day.

Nervously, he leaned in closer to her. “Do you… like it?”

“I love it.” She replied, her answer deeply muffled by the chocolate on her tongue. “This is… some of the best chocolate I’ve ever had. It’s… wonderful.”

He felt himself start to blush at her words. He’d never really been quite so sure of his dessert-making skills, so having the reassurance was comforting. “I’m glad.”

Before she had even finished sucking on the first one, he watched her pop another one of the tray and into her mouth. “Naegi-kun, honestly, this is amazing…”

He swatted the comment away, taking on a ‘you flatter me’ gesture. “Oh, it’s no problem.”

“No, it is. You were under no obligation to do any of this for me, but you did it anyway. All because I told you I found Christmas Eve challenging. Taking me here, and giving me this… it’s amazing. Naegi-kun, you’re amazing.”

You’re amazing. 

Makoto felt his heart skip its beat once again. Maybe he wasn’t ready to tell her that she was radiant. But she was ready to tell him that he was amazing. And that was enough.

“So are you, Kirigiri-chan.”


End file.
